


If I Should Die

by zach_stone



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Genre-Typical Violence, I promise!!!, M/M, Mild Gore, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zach_stone/pseuds/zach_stone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years into the zombie apocalypse, two groups of young adults just trying to survive are thrust into each other's paths. But learning to trust again isn't easy, and if there's one thing that's dangerous at the end of the world, it's getting attached. </p>
<p>(Because every fandom needs a Zombie Apocalypse AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. on the move

**Author's Note:**

> i need y'all to know i've been sitting on this idea since NOVEMBER and i am finally ready to start posting it
> 
> general warnings for the story are in the tags, but if there's anything particularly intense or gory i'll warn in the notes. u know the drill. 
> 
> i'll try to update with decent regularity, but i'm still writing my other fic at the same time so we'll see how this goes.
> 
> this story is inspired by tons of apocalypse/zombie stories, but especially the last of us, the walking dead game, and zombieland. 
> 
> ENJOY and dont forget, feedback fuels me xoxo

_ “They’re here, they’re inside, we have to go right now!” _

_ “Where’s Hannah and Beth? I’m not leaving without them!” _

_ “They’ll catch up with us. We have to go, Josh!” _

_ Screaming from everywhere, and Chris’s hand yanking him to his feet, the smell of fire and gunpowder and the undeniable stench of rotting flesh….  _

 

Josh jerked awake with a garbled curse, already midway to sitting up. He blinked a few times in the darkness, and felt Chris shift beside him. The silhouette of his best friend’s arm came into view, clumsily feeling around in the dark until it landed directly on Josh’s face.

“Ugh, dude,” Josh grumbled, pushing Chris’s hand off him.

“Sorry,” Chris whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Josh replied. “Just a bad dream.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked, speaking around a yawn. Josh shook his head, even though he knew Chris couldn’t see him.

“Nah, man. Just go back to sleep.” He felt Chris’s hand fumbling around again, and this time it found Josh’s arm, thumb rubbing against his bicep. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the small gesture of comfort for a moment before he forced himself to say, “Seriously, dude, I’m fine.” He rolled onto his side, out of Chris’s reach. He heard Chris sigh, but his friend didn’t argue. Thank God. It was too late, or maybe too early, for Josh to deal with Chris’s relentless need to take care of him. 

Eventually, he drifted off again, and when he woke a second time it was to the grim grey light of early morning flooding the inside of the old, gutted school bus he and Chris were sleeping in. He grunted, squinting and holding a hand up in front of his face. 

“Rise and shine!” Jessica’s sing-song voice came from the double doors. 

“Fuck off,” Chris mumbled to his left. Josh rolled onto his stomach and pulled his pillow over his head. He heard Jessica clambering into the bus, and a moment later Chris yelped in pain and surprise. 

“What the hell, Jess?” he exclaimed. Josh lifted his head to see Chris sitting up and rubbing his nose, looking annoyed. “She flicked my nose! Really hard!” he told Josh. Josh just snorted, but he sat up before Jess could start flicking him, too.

“You two should consider yourselves lucky,” Jess said. “Sam and I had a way longer watch shift than you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, shoving his glasses onto his face and pulling a beanie over his shaggy hair. “How was it out there?”

“Quiet as ever,” Jess said, shrugging. “Which is good and bad.”

“Means there’s no fucking zombies nearby,” Chris pointed out. 

“Yeah, but we haven’t come across any other survivors in like, weeks,” she retorted. “Gettin’ a little stir-crazy with only you bozos to talk to.”

“Aw, love you too, Jess,” Josh said. “Anyway, it’s not like we’ve ever spent much time  _ talking  _ when we’ve found other survivors.”

Jess frowned. “I hate when you say things like that. Makes me feel like we’re bad people.”

Josh wanted to point out that killing and robbing innocent survivors almost definitely made them bad people, but it was too early to bicker. He needed something to quiet the buzz steadily building in his head — he dug around in his pillowcase until he felt the little plastic container he kept inside. He opened it and examined the dwindling collection of pills inside with a frown. “Running kinda low,” he told Chris. His friend leaned over to look as well.

“Shit. Well, we’ll have to find a pharmacy,” he said. “About time we moved on anyway, I don’t think I can take another night sleeping in this thing.” 

“I’ll let Sam know we’re heading out,” Jess said. She ducked out of the doorway, leaving Josh and Chris to stumble out of the bus and into the sunlight. Josh looked around at their little camp. It was a long-abandoned parking lot, only a few cars in the lot and most of them in some state of disassembly. In the beginning of the outbreak, cars had been stolen, gutted, torn apart, and then often abandoned wherever they ran out of gas. For the past five years, Josh had grown used to sleeping in leftover vehicles. 

It hadn’t always been this way, the stealing and hurting other people. They used to be better, kinder. But the world no longer had room for kindness, and when a militant group of hunters took them in, they’d adapted. That’s how they’d met Jessica; her whole family had gotten the sickness, had turned into zombies. She’d escaped unscathed. “I got lucky,” she’d say, but her tone was flat and bitter. Josh thought back to the first night they’d spent with the hunters, he and Chris crammed into a tiny bunk together. Chris had held Josh’s hand as he spent a sleepless night, wondering if he’d ever see his parents again.

He’d stopped wondering a long time ago. 

“Josh?” Sam’s voice snapped him back to the present. She was poking at the remains of their campfire, and her eyes were hard with concern. “How many doses do you think you’ve got left?”

“Uh,” Josh said, still distracted by his reminiscing. “Maybe two days.”

“Damn. Alright. We should get going. Can’t be too hard to find Xanax, right?” She bent down to pick up her backpack. Josh scuffed his shoe on the cracked asphalt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t,” Sam said, pointing at him threateningly. “We take care of our own. It’s not a big deal.”

“But—”

“I said it’s not a big deal, Washington. So shut up.” She turned away from him without another word. Jessica gave Josh an apologetic smile before she joined Sam in packing up camp. Chris sidled up next to Josh.

“She tries so hard to be all commanding,” he said quietly, nodding in Sam’s direction. “But like. No one asked her to lead us, you know?”

“Better her than me,” Josh said, shrugging. He rubbed absently at his forearm before stepping away. Chris let out a slightly frustrated noise behind him. Josh felt guilty; he was always shutting down, never taking Chris’s many opportunities to open up and just  _ talk _ . He hadn’t in months, not since they lost Hannah and Beth.

***

Chris couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up, sometime during that first year, after his phone died and there’d been no way to charge it. Without his go-to security object, he’d gotten a little twitchy. Jess teased him about it constantly, but there was no malice behind her words. Everyone’s gotta get by somehow. 

He watched as Josh walked ahead of him, resisting the urge to try to start a conversation with him again. Josh was cranky today. Well, he was always cranky lately. 

Jess fell back a bit to walk in step with Chris, and she said in a soft voice, “How do you think he’s doing?” She nodded in Josh’s direction.

“Dunno. He won’t talk to me.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “He had another nightmare last night.”

“About the twins?” 

“Probably.” Chris exhaled slowly through his nose. “Like I said, he won’t talk to me.”

“He’s probably just stressed about his pills,” Jess said reassuringly. “Sam and I were talking about that last night. She thinks we should talk to him again about trying to ease off them.”

“She  _ would _ think that,” Chris said. “As if it’s that simple. Why does she get to call all the shots?”

Jessica’s brow furrowed. “Sam’s doing the best she can. I don’t see  _ you _ stepping up.” Before Chris could reply, Jess strode off to walk with Sam at the front, dragging her baseball bat in the dirt behind her because she knew Chris hated when she did that. Chris kicked at a loose rock on the road, scowling. He hadn’t meant to diss Sam; honestly, he was grateful she’d taken the lead. At one time Chris would’ve expected Josh to be the leader if they broke from the larger group, but being separated from the twins had sunk Josh to a new low point. He’d turned to numbing himself with Xanax soon after, and now he’d built walls around himself that were nearly impenetrable. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, and they all came to a stop. Sam had drawn her gun, and Chris let his hand drop to his holster, glancing around nervously. They only had two guns between them, and more often than not Sam and Chris were the designated carriers. Jess had her bat and Josh had a knife, but it wasn’t quite the same. Chris missed the security of a larger group, multiple weapons and more warm bodies around him. He always felt so exposed when they moved from camp to camp these days.

“What’s up?” Jess asked. Sam shook her head, holding a finger to her lips. Chris strained his ears, and then he heard it. A low, guttural moaning, coming from somewhere up ahead of them. Abandoned cars and piles of rubble were strewn all along the street, so it was hard to see where the noise was coming from. There was no mistaking it, though — it was a zombie. Maybe more than one.  _ Shit.  _

“Move slowly,” Sam whispered, gesturing forward. The four of them crept towards the sound, barely daring to breathe. Chris watched Josh take out his knife, noticed the way his hand shook.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, putting his hand on Josh’s arm. Josh jerked away from him.

“I’m fine,” he hissed. Sam looked back at the two of them and glared. They shut up, but not because of Sam’s silent scolding. They’d spotted the zombies. Six of them, all at least a year turned, bodies stinking of rot and blood and pus. Their skin was sallow and greying, eyes sunken, cheeks hollowed. The sight never failed to make Chris’s skin crawl. 

The group spread out, ducking behind cars and watching the zombies as they shuddered in their little circle, groaning and growling. Chris caught Sam’s eye and mouthed, “Should we shoot?”

Sam nodded, but Jess grabbed Sam’s wrist and shook her head. She wiggled the bat, eyebrows raised. Sam pursed her lips. Josh fidgeted.

The zombies spotted them. Chris didn’t know who was to blame, but in an instant the groans turned to shrieks, and six lumbering bodies thrashed about. Jess was lightning fast, crashing her bat into one of the zombie’s skulls with enough force to knock it down, blood spattering. Josh took a risky lunge forward and shoved his knife into another’s eye. Sam kicked one of the zombies in the gut and brought the butt of her gun down on its head. Chris dodged a zombie’s gnarled grasp and shot it twice in the face. Together they made quick work of the infected, and in just a few minutes the six bodies were sprawled on the asphalt, lifeless. Chris looked down at his bloodstained jacket and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Everyone okay?” Sam asked, a bit breathless. 

“I’m good,” Jess said. She rolled the bat between her palms. “Kinda therapeutic, actually.” 

“Nobody got bit, right?” Sam persisted. Josh and Jess shook their heads.

“We’re all fine,” Chris said, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled wearily.

“Great. And hey, look over there. Jackpot.” She pointed at the building a few yards in front of them. It was a Walgreens, the windows boarded up but the door still intact.

They approached slowly, wary of anyone — or any _ thing _ — popping up to catch them off guard. “I’ll check it out,” Chris said when they reached the doors. He handed his backpack to Sam. “You guys stay out here.”

“Hey,” Jess said as he reached for the door handle. “If you see any booze in there, grab it, will ya?”

He snorted. “Sure thing, Jess.” He pulled open the door and walked inside. It was dim, but a sizeable hole in the ceiling let in a decent amount of early evening light, so Chris could see. Many of the shelves had been ripped out of the floor and pushed aside in weird formations, but Chris didn’t pay them much mind. He made a beeline for the pharmacy counter. Hopping over it to the back stock, he scanned the rows of medicine. “C’mon,” he muttered. Then, he spotted it; a little white prescription box of Xanax. Smiling, he tucked his gun into the back of his belt and grabbed the meds.

That was about the time Chris felt the cold, hard press of a gun barrel against the back of his skull.

_ Well, fuck.  _


	2. safety in numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making friends was a lot less stressful before the zombies showed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pretty much entirely chris POV, but next chapter is gonna be all josh to make up for it. i'm not sure if other characters will get POV segments, but as it stands right now it's going to bounce between chris and josh. just a heads up. anyway thanks for the awesome responses last chapter, enjoy!!

“Drop the goods and stand up, nice and slow,” the voice behind Chris said. He set the box of Xanax back down and lifted his hands in surrender. Carefully, he got to his feet, feeling the barrel of the gun slide down against his shoulder blades. Whoever was behind him must be short. He felt his gun being removed from his waistband. “Now turn around,” the woman’s voice went on. “And don’t even think about trying anything or I’ll pump you full of lead.”

Chris pivoted slowly, and saw that standing before him was a short girl with a pistol aimed at him and a hard expression on her face. She was dressed in black, surprisingly neat clothes.

“Look, I just—” Chris began, but she cocked the gun and his words died in his throat.

“I didn’t say you could talk, blondie,” she said. Her eyes scanned his tall frame, and he felt suddenly self-conscious. He was dirty, clothes stained and probably smelling rank as hell. His hair was in dire need of a trim and his glasses were always slightly askew. This girl — woman, Sam would’ve corrected him — she looked like she _wasn’t_ living in an apocalypse. She shook her head slightly, tossing her short dark hair, and pursed her lips. “We found your friends,” she said.

Behind her, Chris watched as Josh, Sam, and Jess were dragged into view by three other strangers. A tall guy had Josh by the upper arm. He looked like he was probably popular Before, back in high school. Chris wished that didn’t irk him so much. Another guy, one not as tall as the one holding Josh, had Sam. He also had her gun. Jess was being held by a girl who was tinier than she was, but the short redhead seemed more than capable of holding her own. They all had their own guns. It was impressive.

It also meant that Chris and his friends were totally screwed. They were usually so careful; of all the times to get cocky. He locked eyes with the woman still holding a gun on him, and wondered whether or not he dared try to speak again. He was saved the trouble when Josh, squirming in his captor’s grip, grunted, “Ease off, asshole. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hey, shut up!” the man said, shaking Josh’s shoulder roughly. Something burned inside Chris’s gut at the sight.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” he found himself saying.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the woman with the gun said, raising it slightly as if to remind Chris it was still there. “Everybody settle the fuck down. Now you, tough guy — what’s your name?”

“Chris,” he said shortly, still scowling at the guy holding Josh.

“Well, Chris, my name’s Emily. And this is _my_ place you’re trying to steal from. So you’d better have a good reason for it or I swear to God—”

“We have a good reason!” Chris said quickly. “My friend, he needs medicine. Xanax. That’s all we were gonna take.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. “Xanax? Five years into the end of the world and _now_ he needs a panic pill? I don’t buy it.”

“He’s got an _addiction_ , asshole,” Jessica spat. Chris winced at the way Emily’s face darkened, and she turned to glare at Jessica.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, bitch,” she said icily. Jess looked like she was about to blow a gasket, and the girl holding her seemed mildly terrified.

Ever the peacemaker, even when they’d been hunters, Sam piped up, “Hey, everyone hold on a second. We didn’t come here to fight, or to overstep someone else’s territory. We just want the medicine, and then we’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

The silence that followed was agonizing. Chris fidgeted, fingers twisting at the hem of his shirt. Finally, the boy holding Sam said, “Em, c’mon. Let’s just give it to them. We don’t need it.”

“Shut up, Matt,” she retorted. “I’m thinking.” She turned back to Chris. “Where’s the rest of your people?”

“You’re looking at them,” he said. This seemed to surprise her.

“Just the four of you?” she said. “Huh.”

“Used to be more of us,” Chris added. “We got… separated. About six months ago.”

“Emily,” the boy named Matt said, his voice more insistent now. “Can I talk to you for a second? Please?”

Frowning deeply, Emily nodded. “Mike, Ash, don’t let them pull any shit.” Matt let go of Sam and he and Emily stepped off to the side. Matt was speaking in a fervent whisper, and Emily’s angry expression slowly melted into one of resignation. The two of them walked back over to the rest of the group.

“Look,” Emily said. “I don’t trust strangers. Especially not ones who break in and try to take my shit. But,” she continued, cutting her eyes briefly to Matt, “there’s safety in numbers, and we recently left a larger group, too. So if you need a place to stay for a few days… consider this an invitation. If you’re not interested, take your medicine and leave. I don’t give a fuck.”

Chris glanced at Sam, and then Josh. Josh had finally been released by — Emily had called him Mike — and was now hunching his shoulders and staring at the floor. Staying in the Walgreens seemed a hell of a lot nicer than sleeping in old cars again for who knows how long. Maybe it’d do Josh some good. “I like the sound of that,” Chris said. “Sam?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “We’d really appreciate a place to stay. Thank you.”

“You sure about this, Em?” Mike said. His voice was almost whiny. Emily scowled at him.

“Shut the hell up, Mike, I know what I’m doing,” she said. “We have a spare sleeping space you all can share, I’ll show you.”

“Hang on,” Sam said. “Can we have our stuff back? Like, our bags and our weapons?”

Emily raised her eyebrow. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“What the fuck?” Chris said. Emily turned to him.

“Look, I said you could stay. Doesn’t mean I trust any of you in here with a weapon. I know what kind of people are out there. People who will say anything to get your guard down, and the second they do… well, you’re fucked.” There was something sharp and personal behind her words that made Chris nervous. If she knew the kind of people they were, the group they’d come from, he was certain she would throw them all out in an instant. Or maybe kill them. “For all we know, your friend’s Xanax addiction could be total bullshit,” Emily continued. “You’ve done nothing to prove to me that I should trust you with a gun.”

“This is so stupid,” Jess grumbled.

“One more comment like that and you all can leave right now,” Emily said coolly.

“Fuck that, you’re being a bitch!” Jess said loudly, and the two girls looked ready to go at each other’s throats when a clatter and a groan from the doorway stopped everyone in their tracks.

A zombie was standing at the open door, mouth lolling open, a thread of bloody drool making its way down its chin. It didn’t seem to have spotted the group yet, and they all dropped to a crouch behind the shelving, listening as it shuffled into the store. It was slow for the time being, but as soon as it caught a glimpse of a living person, the zombie’s rage would kick in and it would be fast, violent, and undeterred.

“Wanna give us back our guns now?” Jessica hissed at Emily.

“Jess, enough,” Sam whispered. She chanced a glance around the shelving and saw the zombie was meandering closer to their hiding spot. “We don’t know how many more might be nearby, a gunshot might draw attention.”

Emily narrowed her eyes, debating. Then she reached into her boot and pulled out a knife. Turning to Chris and Sam, she said, “You two go around that way, cut it off. I’ll get it.”

They did as she said, creeping around the shelf and watching as Emily moved closer to the zombie. They were almost to the door, and Emily was nearly close enough to get a good jab in. Just as she was about to lunge forward, though, it turned, and immediately let out a howl of fury. Emily tried to slash at its face, but it was too close now, and it grabbed her by the shoulders. She let out a yelp of surprise and fear, and then Sam came up behind the zombie with a brick in hand and crashed it against its head. The thing was just dazed enough for Emily to break free, and she stabbed it in the face again and again, until it collapsed at her feet. Chris darted over to the door and yanked it shut. There didn’t appear to be any more outside, but better safe than sorry.

Emily was breathing heavily, blood spattered against her cheeks and shirt. She wiped the knife off on her pants.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked, glancing at the zombie’s mutilated face with distaste.

“Yeah,” Emily said after a moment. She shook herself slightly. “Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sam said. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then Emily smiled ruefully.

“Safety in numbers,” she said. “That’s no joke, huh? Listen… you act fast. We need people like that. So if you want to stick around, the guns are all yours. Interested?” she asked.

“Emily,” Mike said warningly from across the room. She flipped him off.

“Can we have a minute in private to decide?” Sam asked. Emily nodded.

Josh and Jess joined Sam and Chris at the other side of the room, and they formed a small huddle. “So?” Sam asked quietly. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t trust them,” Jess said. “And did you hear the way that girl talked about ‘what kind of people are out there’? If she found out we used to run with hunters, she’d slit our throats.”

“When’s the last time we were in a place this secure?” Sam pointed out. “No more sleeping in cars. They look clean, like they have access to water. This is a good deal. Chris? Back me up here.”

Chris deliberated. He looked at Josh, who remained oddly silent. “I’ll do whatever Josh wants to do,” he said finally. Sam sighed in irritation.

“I don’t care,” Josh said.

“Well can you pretend to for a second?” Sam grumbled. “Come on, Josh, this is important.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” he said dully.

“So we’re staying?” Sam confirmed. Josh shrugged. Jess clucked her tongue.

“I hope this is the right decision,” she said. Sam leaned away from the huddle.

“Me too,” she said. In a louder voice, to Emily, she called, “We’re staying.”

“Okay. So, let’s get properly introduced,” Emily said, as they rejoined the others. “Your name’s Sam, is that right?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “This is Josh and Jessica.” Josh glanced up briefly, and Jessica smiled tightly at Emily, who gave a curt nod.

“This is Matt,” Emily said. Matt waved. “That’s Ashley over there, and this is Mike.” Her tone dripped with disdain when she said Mike’s name, and he looked irritated. She continued, “And this is our home base. Ash can show you around.”

“Oh! Oh, okay,” Ashley, said. She turned a little pink as all eyes went to her. “Um, sure. So this is kind of the main area. Over there, we’ve got the bedrooms.” She pointed to the shelving that Chris had noticed earlier. Now that he really looked at it, he saw that the shelves were arranged to form little cubicles, with tarp spread over the top of them and hanging off one side. Ashley led them over to a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY.

“This is the sick wing, I guess,” she said. She opened the door. Inside was what had once been a break room. Now, a table stacked with bedding sat in the middle of the room. There was a sink, various bandages and gauze, and weird little tools spread along a counter. “We don’t use this place too often,” Ashley continued. “But if you ever need to get patched up, I’m your girl.” She smiled slightly. “Anyway, there’s the stockroom in the back, but that’s just full of random junk. Most of the good stuff we need, we’ve already moved it to the main part of the store.” She shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“This is a pretty great setup you’ve got,” Sam said, clearly impressed. “How long have you been here?”

“Seven months now,” said Matt. Sam whistled.

“That long? That’s practically unheard of. How’ve you been able to stay in one place?”

“Em runs a pretty tight ship, she’s good at keeping track of our supplies,” Matt said. “We have like, rain barrels outside, so there’s access to water. Up until a month ago, we had a car, too. Brought in stuff from miles away when we needed it. Ran out of gas, though, so it’s in the stockroom gathering dust.” He smiled wryly. “Win some, lose some.”

“Alright, enough chit-chat,” Emily said, clapping her hands. “Someone’s gotta get that body out of here before it starts to stink. And then we can get a fire going and figure out our schedule. Who’s taking the first watch tonight?”

“I can take watch,” Sam offered. “And get the zombie outside.” Emily nodded.

“Okay, fine. Ash? You wanna help her?” she asked. Ashley nodded, eyeing Sam with trepidation. Sam smiled warmly at her, and the other girl seemed to relax. Sam had that effect on people. The girls went over to the dead zombie, dragging it towards the back door and out into the rapidly darkening night.

“Personally, I’d like to go to bed,” Jess said, yawning pointedly. Emily looked irritated, but agreed.

“Mike can take you to one of the bedrooms,” she said.

“Oh I’m sure he can,” Jess said, giving Mike a sultry look. Mike blinked in surprise, and then grinned. Emily gritted her teeth.

“I’m going to bed, too,” Josh mumbled.

“Fine, whatever,” Emily snapped, clearly still irked by Jess and Mike’s exchange. Mike led Jess and Josh away, and Chris followed the others over to the area of the store where the ceiling was missing. A couple of lawn chairs sat around a pile of charred wood in a metal basin. Emily grabbed a few logs from the stack against the wall and dumped them into the fire pit, fishing a lighter out of her pocket and setting the wood ablaze. She poked at it until the fire seemed to catch, and then nodded decisively.

“Have a seat,” Matt said kindly to Chris, who sat gingerly on one of the chairs. Emily sat across from him, Matt next to her. After a moment, Mike returned, throwing himself into the chair next to Chris.

“So,” Chris said. “What’s the deal with you guys? What were you talking about before, when you decided to let us stay?”

Emily and Matt exchanged glances. “It’s your friend,” Matt said. “The one that’s addicted to Xanax. What’s his name again?”

“Josh,” Chris said. His brow knit in confusion. “I don’t get it. What about him?”

“Well, it’s gotta be hard to… you know, travel with someone who has an addiction. Always being on the lookout for medication and everything. The group we came from, they were a zero-tolerance kind of people.” Matt looked somewhat sickened as he said it.

“It was fine for a while, until the leader got killed by a zombie bite,” Emily said. “The guy who took over was just… totally unforgiving. They practically turned into hunters.”

Chris tried to look horrified. “Fucked up,” he said.

“He killed his own brother because he had asthma,” Matt added. “Apparently it was slowing us down.”

That actually did strike a nerve with Chris. The hunters he’d been with had taken care of their own, their family. “That’s disgusting,” he agreed.

Mike harrumphed. “Whatever. He did what he had to do. Honestly? If I was in your place, man, I woulda ditched your druggie friend a long time ago.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Chris said, starting to get to his feet. Emily held up a hand, stilling him.

“Ignore Michael, he’s just being a tool,” she said. Chris slowly sat back down, still glaring. Mike rolled his eyes.

“Oh, relax. No one’s gonna hurt your boyfriend,” he said. Chris flushed, sputtering.

“He’s not… it’s not like that,” he said. “He’s my best friend.”

“Don’t worry,” Matt said. “There’s the reason we left the group in the first place. There’s enough bad shit going on as it is without turning on each other. Right, Mike?” he added. Mike slouched, looking thoroughly abashed.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine,” Chris said, though it wasn’t. He didn’t know if he trusted these people, Mike especially. But he supposed Matt seemed earnest enough, and he could understand Emily’s attitude. She wasn’t too different from Sam, just not as warm. As long as she didn’t find out about his past, she seemed like someone he could maybe even be friends with.

“Matt, why don’t you and Chris take second watch tonight?” Emily said. Matt nodded. He stood up, reaching out a hand to help Chris to his feet.

“In the meantime, get some shut-eye,” Matt said. “You look like you could use it.”

Chris followed Matt over to the “bedrooms.” Matt paused in front of one, turning to look at Chris with a searching eye. Chris squirmed under the scrutiny.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to your friend,” he said. “I promise. I think it’s great you care so much about him. Gotta have each other’s backs in times like this, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris said slowly. “Thanks, man.”

“Uh-huh. This one’s yours,” he said, gesturing to the tarp. “I think your friends are already in there. We’ll set you guys up with your own tomorrow, but this’ll do for now.” With a salute, Matt ducked into the cubicle next to Chris’s. Chris went inside the little makeshift room. It was extremely dark, but he could just make out Josh and Jess laying on their sleeping bags. Chris saw his backpack sitting on the floor. Someone had already laid his sleeping bag out on the ground next to Josh’s. Chris hoped it was Josh who had done it. He knelt down and crawled into his bag, staring at the back of Josh’s head. His friend murmured something indistinct in his sleep, shifting restlessly, and rolled onto his back. Chris couldn’t help himself — he reached out a hand and brushed his fingertips across Josh’s cheek. Josh twitched his nose, snuffling sleepily, but didn’t wake. Chris’s stupid heart fluttered pathetically. He sighed, setting his glasses beside his head and closing his eyes.


	3. the past — loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter jumps back in time, which will happen occasionally throughout the story. next time we'll get back to the present! 
> 
> there's some violence here but i mean that's to be expected, my dudes.

_THREE MONTHS POST-OUTBREAK_

 

Josh heard Hannah whimper in pain for at least the third time in the last twenty minutes, and his chest tightened. She’d sprained her wrist after a bad landing jumping out of a building, and now they were just wandering aimlessly, like they had been for the past week. He tried to clear his throat, but his mouth felt like sandpaper, and the noise caught somewhere between his ribs and his mouth.

“My wrist hurts,” Hannah said quietly. Josh stopped walking, and Chris almost walked into him.

“What do you want me to do, Han?” Josh asked helplessly, turning to his sister. Beth and Sam were on either side of her, arms around her. She looked miserable. They all did.

“Maybe we can just stop for a little while,” Sam suggested. “Take a break?”

“I dunno if that’s a good idea…” Josh began.

“We’re sure as hell not getting anywhere following you,” Beth muttered. Josh gritted his teeth, but shrugged.

“Whatever. Fine. Let’s just… over there.” He pointed to a park bench, a few abandoned cars haphazardly circled around it. As they all dropped onto the bench, Josh put his head in his hands.

“Hey guys?” Chris said. “There’s like, stuff in this car.”

Josh lifted his head and looked where Chris was pointing. The car closest to them had a suitcase in the backseat, as well as several gallon jugs of water. “Oh shit,” he said, getting to his feet. Chris stood beside him, and the two of them eyed the car’s interior.

“Should… should we take it?” Chris asked.

“Um, obviously,” Josh said. He was looking around for something to smash in the window when Chris reached forward and opened the unlocked back door.

“Wait,” Sam said. “What if it belongs to someone?”

“Sammy, it’s fine, no one’s around,” Josh said. “We need this stuff. What if there’s like, painkillers in there? Or an ace bandage?” He glanced pointedly at Hannah, who was still making distressed sounds and clutching her hand to her chest. Sam frowned.

“Just doesn’t seem right,” she said. Josh ignored her, reaching into the car and opening the suitcase.

“Now just what do you think you’re doing?” a voice said. Josh looked up to see a woman was standing a few feet away, holding a shotgun loosely in her hands. She appeared older, maybe in her fifties, and while she wasn’t pointing the barrel of the gun at any of them, she looked guarded, ready to shoot. Josh stilled.

“We — we thought it was abandoned,” Chris stammered.

“Well it’s not,” the woman said. “It’s mine.” She gestured away from the car with her gun. “Get back, kiddo.”

Josh stood his ground. “We need supplies.”

“Josh, do what she says,” Beth hissed from behind him.

“My sister’s hurt,” Josh pushed on, ignoring Beth. “We’re all thirsty. You have plenty of stuff in there, and you’re by yourself. You don’t need it all.”

The woman gripped her gun tighter, and for a moment Josh thought he’d pushed too far and she was going to shoot him. Then her shoulders sagged and she lowered the gun completely. “Shit, you’re just a bunch of kids.” She took a few steps closer to them. “My name’s Lisa. Who are you?”

“Josh,” he said, still wary.

“What’re you, like, fourteen?” Lisa said. “Why are you all out here alone? Where are your parents?”

“I’m sixteen,” Josh groused. “And we don’t know where our parents are.”

Lisa sighed. “I see.” She pointed to the bench. “Take a seat. Let’s get acquainted.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Beth said. Lisa raised her eyebrows.

“If I’m gonna be giving you my shit, little girl, I wanna know who you are.” Beth was silent, and Josh and Chris squeezed onto the bench next to the girls. Lisa sat on the hood of one of the cars, shotgun in her lap. “So? What’s your story?”

“We were at a park by my house when the outbreak happened,” Josh said. “We heard sirens, decided to go back to the house. On the way there, we ran into some of _them_.”

“We outran them, barely,” Chris said. “But when we got back, the house was empty.”

“We didn’t know what to do,” Hannah sniffled.

“Your parents,” Lisa said. “They never came back?”

Josh shook his head. “We waited all night, but no one showed up. Heard infected people clawing at our door the whole time, though. Then in the morning a bunch of military trucks came through and mowed down all the infected. They took us to a camp, one of the safety zones or whatever.”

“Let me guess,” Lisa said. “Got overfull, they kicked you out.”

“Not exactly,” Sam said. “We were supposed to be transferred to another zone, about a week ago. But a bunch of infected got in the way of the van, and it crashed. Lots of people died. We just ran away.”

“Which brings us to now,” Josh said. “We’re trying to find the east bay safety zone. Do you know where it is?”

Lisa laughed bitterly. “Sure, I know where it is. Reckon it’s just as full as where you came from. You wanna know why I’m out here, instead of in one of the safety zones?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “In the past three months, I’ve been shuffled through five different safety zones. They keep getting full up, and if you don’t think there’s politics involved in who gets to stay and who gets to go, you’re an idiot.”

“So, what, you just left?” Beth demanded. “You’re just going to wander around out here where you could get killed by infected?”

“I’ve done alright for myself so far,” Lisa said. “Got back to my house, got my car and my gun, and I’m doing okay. I’m heading up to the northeast. I hear the virus hasn’t spread that far yet. I don’t suppose you kids want a lift?”

“You’re going to drive all the way across the country in that thing?” Josh said skeptically, eyeing the car.

“Yup. Don’t look so surprised, kid. This thing’s durable. So again, I ask: do you want a lift?”

Josh looked at his sisters and his friends. Hannah’s face was contorted with pain. Beth’s expression was unreadable, closed off. Sam seemed cautious, but not opposed to the idea. Chris, though. Chris was looking at Josh with so much confidence and trust, like he’d follow him to the ends of the earth. It made Josh’s insides squirm, how much Chris looked up to him. He was so afraid of letting him down.

“Yeah, okay,” Josh said, turning back to Lisa. “We’ll go with you.”

***

_EIGHT MONTHS POST-OUTBREAK_

 

“Lisa’s been gone a while, don’t you think?” Hannah said in a small, worried voice. Josh rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.

“It hasn’t been that long. Maybe she just found a lot of stuff to carry back with her.”

The five kids were all sitting inside the little tent Lisa had set up earlier that day, before she disappeared to search for supplies and, most importantly, food. They were also pretty low on gas, so she usually checked abandoned cars along the way. She was often gone for hours at a time. So this evening wasn’t unusual, but Hannah tended to get antsy.

“I can’t stop thinking about what that guy said, a few towns back,” Sam said.

“What, about the hunters?” Beth said. “I bet it was all talk. I mean, I know things have gone to shit, but that seems so extreme. Killing people for sport?”

“Stop,” Hannah whined. “You guys are freaking me out.”

“Shh,” Chris said suddenly, sitting up straighter and holding up one hand. “Did you guys hear that?”

“What?” Josh said, lowering his voice to a whisper. They all strained their ears for a moment, and then heard it — the crunch of boots on gravel.

“Lisa?” Sam said hopefully.

“Or infected,” Josh said. He fumbled around for the knife Lisa had left them with, clutching the handle with sweaty hands. They stayed perfectly still, waiting. Soon, unfamiliar voices floated towards them.

“You think that’s her car?” said one voice, gruff and scratchy.

“Gotta be. There’s a bunch of stuff in the back. Wonder if she had anyone with her.” This one was nasally, sharp.

“Well if she did, they’ll be close by,” the first voice said. “Oh shit, you see that? A tent!”

Hannah clutched Josh’s arm. Shadows appeared outside the tent, and then a large knife sliced through the side, tearing open to reveal two large men staring down at them.

“Well, well, well,” said the gruff-voiced man, grinning. “Look what we found.”

“Get the hell away from us,” Josh said, wishing he sounded less afraid. The men just laughed at him. He lunged forward with his knife, catching one of the men in the knee.

“You little fucker!” roared the man, hopping backward in pain. “I oughta chop you to pieces!”

“Enough,” a loud voice came from behind them. Josh, half-sprawled out of the tent with the now-bloody knife in his hand, stared in horror as an entourage of at least twenty people came into view. Leading them was the most frightening man Josh had ever seen. He looked weather-worn and tough, with a long scar across one eye. He had a weapon slung across his back and a machete in one hand.

“This little brat fuckin’ stabbed me, Jack,” the gruff man complained. “They must’ve been with that woman, can’t we just get rid of ‘em?”

“A fighter, eh? Interesting.” The man named Jack eyed Josh carefully, before his gaze shifted to the others, still in the tent. “Take the blonde boy and the angry-looking girl,” he ordered. Two of his people stepped forward. Josh made to stab at them, but one of them kicked him in the face. He heard shouts of protest and a brief scuffle behind him, but his ears were ringing from the blow and he couldn’t focus.

Finally, Josh was able to blink back blood and dizziness, and he sat up. The hunters (because by now he’d realized that’s what they were) had taken Chris and Beth, each of them held tightly in the grip of one of the men. Each had a knife pressed to their throats.

“No,” Josh said immediately, moving to stand. Jack stilled him with a hand.

“Don’t move, or watch your friends die,” he warned.

Josh looked hopelessly at his best friend and sister. Chris was crying silently, fat tears streaming down his cheeks as the knife grazed his throat. Josh’s heart clenched.

Beth wasn’t crying, and that was somehow worse, somehow even harder to see. She was tight-lipped, but her eyes gave her away. She was terrified.

“Whatever you want, you can have it,” Sam said from behind Josh. “Take all our stuff, we don’t care. Just let them go, please.”

Jack chuckled. “But what if they’re what we want, sweetheart? Just a little fresh blood.”

There was a girl, Josh noticed, among the surly crowd of grown men and women. She looked young, maybe even younger than the twins. Her hair was in a long blonde braid down her back, and she didn’t look phased by the situation at hand. Josh wondered how the hell someone as young as her was wrapped up in a group like this. She looked at him, and there was a question in her eyes. Josh couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it was better than indifference. It was something. He could work with something.

He glanced back at Chris and Beth. Chris had closed his eyes, pulse jumping wildly in his neck. Beth’s gaze held a silent plea. _Whatever happens, don’t let them hurt Hannah._ Josh stared at the blonde girl, praying for her to do something, say something. The blade against Beth’s neck pressed just hard enough that a thin stream of blood trickled down onto her shirt. The blonde girl gave Josh a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Jack, wait,” the girl said. “You know, I’m the only one my age in our whole community. I get _so_ bored and _so_ lonely. Can’t we just keep them? For me?” Her voice was wheedling.

Jack scowled at her. “Goddamn it, Jessica, don’t try to pull that crap with me.”

“You never listen to me!” Jessica complained, stomping her foot. “I never get a say in anything.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” Jack muttered. He seemed to consider her words, though, and then he stepped forward to crouch before Josh. “Are you scared of me, boy?” he asked. Josh forced himself to maintain eye contact. He shook his head. Jack chuckled. “Sure you are,” he said. “But you want to protect your friends, your family. I admire that. I respect it.”

Where was he going with this? What did he want? Was this just some sick little game to him? Josh tasted blood on his lips and realized his nose was bleeding from being kicked in the face. He swallowed down nausea and croaked out, “Let them go. Kill me instead.”

“Josh,” Sam hissed behind him.

“I don’t think I want to kill you,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Maybe Jessica is right. We might be able to use a few more young ones to our advantage.” He was mostly talking to himself now. “What do you think about that, huh? You interested in joining our little family?”

Josh and Beth locked eyes again, and Beth’s expression practically screamed _no, absolutely not, don’t you dare say yes._ But he had to keep her safe. He had to keep his family safe. So Josh nodded at Jack and said, in a quiet voice, “Yes.”

Jack stood up. He smiled. “Let them go,” he said, and the two men released Chris and Beth, who stumbled back over to the others. Hannah clung to Beth instantly. Chris dropped down next to Josh, shaking. Josh reached over and closed his hand around Chris’s wrist. The rapid pace of his friend’s pulse was a comfort, a reminder. They weren’t dead yet.

“We’ll take ‘em back to camp and put them in solitary for a week, make sure we can trust them not to run off,” Jack said. The five teenagers were surrounded by men, pulling them up and keeping firm grips on their arms.

They were taken to the hunters’ camp, an abandoned rec center. Dozens of trucks and vans were parked outside, clearly belonging to the hunters. One in particular stood out — it was decorated in barbed wire and spray-painted with a large, black skull with antlers coming out of it. Josh had no idea what the symbol meant, but the sight of the vehicle filled him with unease. He supposed that was the whole point.

Jack’s men locked them in a room that had two little bunks and not much else. It was chilly and dim, and the five of them stood huddled together in silence for a while. Sam sat down on one of the bunks, and Hannah joined her, burying her face in Sam’s shoulder. Chris started pacing anxiously, twisting his fingers together. Beth pulled Josh into a corner to talk to him in a hushed voice.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she said. He frowned.

“I was keeping us alive,” he said.

 “They’re murderers,” Beth said. “And you just signed us all up to be murderers, too. Is this what Lisa would’ve wanted?”

“Since when do you care what Lisa wants?” Josh countered. “You’ve never trusted her.”

“She’s dead,” Beth said. “You know that, don’t you? They killed her.” Beth’s voice was harsh, an edge to it that had been present almost constantly the past five months. Josh hated it.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded. “I used to always be able to count on you to back me up on things, and now it’s like you’re against me on principle. Why?”

Beth continued to glare at first, but then she sagged back against the wall, her expression softening into a quiet sadness. “I’m sorry. I just… I want to go home.” She spoke in such a small, tired voice, it made Josh ache. “I miss mom and dad. And it just feels like every choice you’ve made is taking us farther away from them. From home.”

“Hey,” Josh said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I know. I want to go home, too. And we will, I promise. We’ll figure it out. But in the meantime, I could really use you in my corner.”

She smiled weakly. “Okay. I’ll try.”

He pulled her into a tight hug.

They eventually decided it would be best to try to get some sleep, fruitless as the effort might seem. The girls all curled on one of the bunks, Josh and Chris left with the other. After a few minutes of uncomfortable shuffling around to get situated, Chris turned on his side and opened his arms.

“Are you asking me to spoon with you?” Josh whispered. Chris raised his eyebrows impatiently, and Josh rolled over so his chest was pressed against Chris’s instead. His arm tucked around Chris’s waist. They stared at each other in the darkness. Josh could feel Chris’s nervous breath against his face, and he could still see the streaks of dried tears tracking his best friend’s cheeks.

“What is it?” Chris asked, gaze searching.

“I hope you’re okay,” Josh replied quietly. “When they had you… that was fucked up.”

“I was really scared,” Chris admitted. “But you saved us. So I’m okay.”

The earnest quality of Chris’s words made Josh feel warm. Chris made him feel like he was doing the right thing, making the right decisions. He wriggled his free hand around until it found Chris’s, and he gripped it tight.

“We’re gonna be fine,” he promised.

Eventually, Chris’s eyes drifted shut. He didn’t let go of Josh’s hand.


	4. sharing secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well golly, it's been 3 million years, huh? no really, i can't believe it's been almost 2 months since my last update. all i can say is that graduation and working full time and traveling just took over my life, and it's been hard for me to get back in the headspace of this fic. anyway, i hope this chapter is enjoyable after such a long wait; no zombies this time, just some awkward conversations and dumb jokes. kids trying to learn to trust each other, all that jazz. i hope u enjoy!

Josh woke with that uncomfortable sensation of being somewhere unfamiliar. He shifted, back tense and achey, and rolled onto his side. He knew Chris had been there at some point in the night, but he was gone now. Sam was in his place, curled on Chris’s sleeping bag. Her eyes were open, and she stared up at the tattered canvas overhead. At the sound of his movements, she turned to face him and smiled.

“Morning,” she whispered. From Josh’s other side, Jessica snored. She was a ridiculously loud snorer, though she refused to believe it. Josh was glad she was still asleep. As much as he liked her, as much as he owed her, sometimes she overwhelmed him. Especially lately, when everything overwhelmed him.

“Hey,” Josh said to Sam. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, burrowing deeper into his sleeping bag. “It’s cold in here.”

“I know,” Sam said. “It’ll be winter soon. Hope it doesn’t snow too much.”

“Mm,” Josh agreed. It felt awkward, speaking to Sam so casually. Who had the time for smalltalk anymore? “Where’s Chris?”

“Finishing up the watch shift with… Matt, I think,” Sam said. “By the way, Emily and I talked earlier, before I came to bed. We were trying to sort out tasks for the day, and you’re going to do a perimeter check with Mike, is that okay?”

Josh wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Well, I don’t think Emily liked Mike and Jess getting so buddy-buddy,” Sam said with some amusement.

“No, I mean, why couldn’t it be one of their own people? Why me?” Josh persisted. Sam’s smile faded.

“If we’re going to stay here, we have to learn to trust them,” she said. “If you don’t like it, you should’ve said something yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, irritated by her lecturing. “I don’t care. I just think Mike’s an asshole.”

“It’ll be fine,” Sam reassured him. She held out her hand, palm up, and Josh sighed slightly before sliding his hand into hers. She squeezed comfortingly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I thought he was gonna cause you any trouble. We look after our own, remember?”

Something about the phrase made Josh’s skin itch. “We’re not with them anymore, you know. We don’t have to say that.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “I kind of forgot it was a hunter thing. Jack said it so much, I guess it’s just stuck in my brain now.” She pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “It’s not a bad motto, really. Once you get rid of the association.”

“I guess,” Josh said. “I had a weird dream about them last night. Or I guess a memory. Kept thinking of when we were captured, remember?”

“That was such an awful night. I try _not_ to think about it.” Sam ran her thumb over his fingers. “You know, it’s nice talking to you. I hardly ever get a chance to when you’re not all spaced out.”

He stiffened. He really should take his pills. He didn’t like to wait too long after waking up. The haze of Xanax kept him from losing his goddamn mind. He pulled his hand away from Sam’s, digging around in his pillow for his meds. Sam watched with disapproving eyes as he popped the pills, swallowing them dry and badly disguising a wince.

“Josh —” Sam began. He shook his head, holding up a finger.

“Not interested,” he said. “You and Jess can have your little whisper chats behind my back all you want, but I already know what you’re gonna say. So just leave it.”

From his other side, Jess smacked her lips sleepily. “Someone say my name?” she spoke through a yawn. Josh put his pills back in his pillowcase and pulled his sleeping bag over his head.

***

Chris leaned against the outside wall of the Walgreens, the gun in his hand a dead weight. He fought to keep his eyes open, glancing over at Matt. Matt didn’t seem very tired, sitting on the dirt and scanning the horizon as the rising sun tinged the sky with pink. Chris slid down the wall to sit beside him, elbows on knees.

“So,” he said, hoping the smalltalk would keep him awake. “How’d you end up being Emily’s right-hand man?”

Matt smiled slightly. “What makes you say that?”

“You kinda seem like the only person she’ll listen to,” Chris said. “No offense.”

“No, you’re not wrong about that,” Matt said. “I guess I’m just the one she trusts the most. She has a… strained relationship with Mike, and she and Ashley don’t always see eye to eye.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal with her and Mike?” Chris asked.

“That’s for her to tell you,” Matt said. “Anyway, yeah, I guess we’re pretty close.” He looked almost shy when he said it, and Chris grinned.

“You’re totally together, right?” he asked.

Matt chuckled. “Not exactly. Em’s not interested in that. At least not with me. It’s fine, though. She’s like my best friend.”

Chris nodded. “Interesting.” He leaned his head back until it bumped against the wall, and kept his eyes on the horizon when he spoke next. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think it’s even… worth it? Being with someone, I mean. Seems kind of pointless, the way everything’s gone to shit.”

Matt hummed thoughtfully. “You think so? I think that makes it more worth it than ever.”

Chris glanced sideways at him. “Yeah?”

“Sure. I mean, we might be dead tomorrow. Why hide how you feel? Anyway, this won’t last forever. Things will go back to normal one day.”

Chris couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t actually think that.”

“Only took five years to get this bad, can’t take much longer to put it back together again,” Matt said. He braced his hands on his knees and stood up. “Come on, we’re done here. You should get some shut-eye before Emily starts assigning you jobs.” Matt offered his hand, and Chris let him pull him to his feet. Matt patted Chris’s shoulder when they were both standing. “For the record, I’m really glad we ran into each other.”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “Me too.”

***

Sam had told Josh to play nice. Well, she’d actually hissed it at him as he left the sleeping tent to join Mike for their perimeter check. He was almost offended by her lack of faith. He wasn’t going to start shit for no reason. Mostly because he didn’t have the energy, but _still_. It was the principle of the thing.

In any case, Mike seemed just as uncomfortable with the setup as Josh was. He was standing by the back door with two guns, and gave Josh a curt nod when he stepped outside. The two men regarded each other in silence for a long, awkward moment.

“You gonna give me a gun?” Josh asked finally, gesturing to the weapons in Mike’s hands. Mike looked embarrassed, shoving one of the guns at Josh. Josh took it, a slight smirk crossing his face. “You don’t trust me at all, do you?”

Mike’s lips thinned in irritation. “Frankly? No, I don’t. Do you trust me?”

Josh smiled wider. “Nope.”

“Right. Well, glad we’re on the same page, I guess,” Mike said. He took off, walking slowly around the perimeter of the Walgreens. He looked almost bored. There was nothing worrying around the outside, and they were back where they started within fifteen minutes. Mike leaned against the back wall, methodically fiddling with the trigger of his gun.

“Why do we even need to do perimeter checks? Isn’t the whole point of having a rotating watch to make sure nothing gets in?” Josh asked.

Mike let out a huff of laughter. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? The whole perimeter check shit is Emily’s idea. She always makes me do it. I think it’s just because she doesn’t want to see me first thing in the morning.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Josh said. He was pushing his luck, especially with the way Mike was messing with his gun, but the other man just laughed again, and then they were both quiet. Josh figured Mike was just dawdling to delay going back in the store, but he wasn’t about to complain. It was quiet outside, cold but comfortable.

“So why’d you start doping yourself up?” Mike asked.

Josh raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you’re not the first person I’ve met who started popping pills,” Mike said. “Just wondering what made you do it.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little personal?” Josh asked coolly.

Mike was undeterred. “We’re gonna be living together, figure I should know,” he said.

Josh exhaled. “Alright, fine. When I was younger, before everything, I was on prescription medication. Antidepressants. When the outbreak hit, I obviously ran out of my drugs. I, uh, I went through withdrawals at one of those quarantine camps they had back then. I felt like I was dying.” It was hard, thinking back on those days. It’d been so long, and he’d spent most of his time trying to forget. “I got better, though, eventually,” he said. “And then I was okay without anything. I mean, I felt like shit most days, but everyone felt like shit, so it was manageable.” He wasn’t looking at Mike, choosing instead to look at the cracked pavement he was standing on. Mike shifted impatiently beside him.

“So why the hell would you get back on something?” Mike asked.

Josh closed his eyes briefly. “Because six months ago, a bunch of zombies attacked my group’s camp and I lost both my sisters. I was like… catatonic. We found some Xanax, and it helped.” He opened his eyes again and looked at Mike with a grim smile. “Alright, your turn.”

Mike looked affronted. “My… turn?”

“I spilled my secrets, now you gimme one of yours,” Josh said. “Fair’s fair.”

Mike looked annoyed, but finally he relented. “Okay, whatever. Uh, I almost killed Emily.”

Josh balked. “Whoa, what the fuck?”

Mike gave a long-suffering sigh. “It was a year or so ago. We were attacked by this… this guy. He wasn’t infected, just crazy. He bit Em’s shoulder, it was gnarly. Anyway, I didn’t know the guy wasn’t a zombie. So when I saw the bite, I kind of… pulled my gun on her.” He winced. “Matt talked me down, but Emily never forgave me.”

Josh whistled. “Jesus. When I said secrets, that was _not_ what I expected. That’s pretty fucked up, you know that?”

“Yeah, well.” Mike crossed his arms. “Now we’re square, okay? Don’t bring that shit up around Emily, I don’t want her going off at me again.” He pushed off the wall. “Okay, let’s get back inside, that’s enough sharing time for one day.”

Josh trailed behind Mike, and when he got back inside he spotted Sam and shuffled over to her.

“How’d it go?” she asked quietly. Josh glanced back at Mike, who had been approached by Jessica and was now chuckling at something she’d said. Josh shrugged.

“Good? Bad? Come on, give me something here,” Sam pressed.

“It was fine,” Josh said, rolling his eyes. Sam beamed at him.

“There. See? What’d I tell you? We’re going to fit right in here,” she said.

“Whatever you say, Sammy.”

***

Chris followed Ashley into the storage room, looking around curiously. He was trying not to be too apprehensive about going into a closed space away from the rest of his group with a perfect stranger. Sam and Emily had apparently planned out the day’s tasks to purposefully put members of the two groups together. Ashley seemed nice enough, Chris thought, but it was hard to tell. She kept leading him further down the rows of shelving, and she wasn’t saying anything.

A stack of papers caught Chris’s eye, and he paused, leaning closer to examine them. It was a bunch of greeting cards, yellowed with age but still in decent condition. _Get Well Soon_ , one said, with a picture of a sad cartoon turtle holding a flower. _Happy Father’s Day_ , another said. Chris felt an ache in his throat, looking at these little fragments of the world Before. He wondered, as he often did, when it would stop hurting so much to remember.

“Whatcha looking at?” Ashley asked, coming up behind him and startling him out of his thoughts. He turned to her and help up one of the cards half-heartedly. “Oh, those,” she said, nodding. “We use them for like, kindling and stuff.”

“Oh,” Chris said. He set the card back in the stack. “Right.”

Ashley regarded him curiously, and then pointed towards the very back of the storage room. “Back there’s where we keep the big junk, that’s what Emily wants us to look through. There’s usually enough burnable stuff around outside for it to be fine, but since it’s getting colder, we might have the fire going more often. She’s a little worried about having enough fuel.” She walked as she talked, and Chris kept pace with her.

“What kind of stuff’s back here?” he asked.

“Junk mostly,” Ashley said. “Anything we can’t use otherwise.” She glanced around furtively, despite the fact that they were very much alone. “Hey… can I show you something?”

Chris frowned, wary. “Uh, what is it?”

“Something I keep hidden back here,” she said. She knelt down, fiddling with a boarded-up part of the floor. She popped a loose panel up, revealing a hole with something inside. Chris took a small step back. What was she about to pull out? He had a wild image of her coming up with a knife and shanking him.

It wasn’t a weapon that Ashley revealed — it was a little plastic box full of playing cards. She stood up and took the lid off the box. She looked almost shy. Chris peered into the box. He recognized those cards.

“Oh my god,” he said, half-laughing. He picked up one of the cards. “ _Magic: the Gathering_? This is your big secret?”

She flushed. “Emily would just make me burn them! Anyway, I used to really like this game. I know it’s dumb.”

Chris looked up from the cards to meet her gaze. “This,” he told her, “is awesome. I fucking love this game.”

A hopeful smile crossed Ashley’s face. “Really? Do you wanna, like, play it?”

“Right now?” he asked, glancing back at the door at the other end of the room. “Emily won’t get mad?”

“Nah,” Ashley said, already, shuffling the stack of cards. “Oh my gosh, I’m so excited. The only other person who knows about these is Mike, and I tried to teach him how to play but he just said it was weird nerd stuff.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, sometimes he’s still stuck in high school hierarchy mode.”

They sat cross-legged on the floor as Ashley divvied up the cards. Chris was a little rusty on the rules, and they didn’t have enough cards for each of them to have a full deck, but it was still the most fun Chris had had in a long time. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been able to just relax and enjoy himself, if only for a few minutes.

“Thanks for showing me this,” Chris said as Ashley was putting everything away again.

“I had a feeling I could trust you,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

“You’ve got good taste in headwear,” she said, pointing to his beanie. She was wearing one, too. Chris laughed.

“Oh, thanks,” he said. “Honestly, I only wear it to hide my stupid hair.”

“I could give you a haircut sometime if you want,” she offered. “I promise I’m decent at it.”

Chris smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.” The two of them stood, moving to the pile of flammable junk once more. Chris spotted something in the corner and grabbed Ashley’s arm. “Oh my god,” he said excitedly. “We _cannot_ burn that.”

 

Later that evening, Matt and Emily were setting up the fire, and Emily asked Ashley to go grab some kindling from the storage room. Chris and Ashley exchanged knowing grins. Sam, who was sitting next to Chris on the ground, gave him a confused look.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“What was what about?” Chris said innocently.

Ashley returned a moment later with some broken chair legs in one hand. In the other, she was holding a perfectly intact guitar.

“Look what Chris and I found today!” she said, lifting it up a little.

“Okay?” Emily said, brow creasing. “Just put it in the pile.”

“No, we shouldn’t burn it,” Chris said. “It’s still totally functional, it has all its strings and everything!”

“No one can even play it, what’s the point of keeping it?” Mike said.

Chris pointed to Josh, who’d been sitting in a chair and spacing out staring into the flames. “Josh can play guitar, right Josh?”

“What?” Josh looked up, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the guitar. “No.”

“Yeah you can!” Chris insisted. “You took lessons and everything, I remember.”

“I remember that too, actually,” Sam said.

Josh grumbled. “That was years ago. I haven’t touched a guitar in forever.”

“But it’s probably just like riding a bike or something, right? Muscle memory and all that.” Chris got up took the guitar from Ashley, standing in front of Josh with the instrument held out like an offering. “Just try it. Please?”

The boys locked eyes, and Josh’s annoyance melted to resignation at the hopefulness in Chris’s face. “Yeah, okay,” he said, taking the guitar. Chris beamed at him, moving to stand beside Josh’s chair to watch him. Josh fiddled with the tuners, strumming the guitar and wincing at the dull, discordant sound. “Jeez, this thing’s out of tune,” he muttered. After a moment, he got it sounding somewhat better, and he tried a few experimental chords.

“Do you know any good songs?” Matt asked.

“I dunno. I know like, four chords,” Josh admitted. “But most of the songs that ever got on the radio were pretty simple, I think. So I could probably play them.” He paused for a second, and then said, “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

Chris and Mike both burst out laughing, and everyone else groaned and booed. Josh smiled, and Chris felt his chest swell. He’d had a feeling that bringing out the guitar would do Josh some good, and to see him looking genuinely happy was more than he could’ve hoped for. Josh strummed a couple more chords, waiting for everyone to settle down again.

“I’m kidding, I don’t actually know that one,” he said. “Um… oh, here we go. But I can’t sing.”

“I’ll do the honors,” Chris said. Josh shot him a look.

“You can’t carry a tune to save your life,” he said.

Chris flicked him in the head. “Just play the song, Washington.” Josh started to pluck out a simple, familiar tune. Chris nodded appreciatively. “Oh man, nice,” he said. Then Chris started to sing along to “Stand By Me.” And Josh was completely right; Chris had a terrible singing voice. That didn’t stop him from squeaking and laughing his way through the first verse. Then Matt joined in at the chorus, and everyone turned to stare at him, because he actually sounded really good. Before long, everyone was singing along. When Matt belted the “darlin’, darlin’” in the last chorus, Josh grinned. Chris put his hand on Josh’s shoulder, and Josh didn’t shrug him off. In fact, he leaned into the touch. Everything felt warm, the firelight flickering off eight smiling faces.

“I miss music,” Ashley sighed after the song ended. “I mean, that was great, don’t get me wrong. But I miss, like, the radio.”

“Oh my god, you know what I miss? Birthday parties,” Jess said. “I remember the last birthday party I ever went to. I was fourteen, it was my cousin’s birthday, and my aunt snuck me half a glass of champagne.” She giggled. “It was awesome.”

“I miss football,” Matt said.

“I miss _showers_ ,” Sam said, and everyone groaned in agreement.

“No, okay, this is the pettiest thing, but I miss shopping,” Emily said. “Like, I used to spend so much money on sweaters and shit. I can’t even imagine that now.”

Ashley looked over at Josh, who had been quietly strumming random chords during this whole exchange. “What about you? What do you miss?”

Chris, who still had his hand on Josh’s shoulder, felt his friend tense up. The soft music stopped. Josh set the guitar down on the ground next to him and stood up.

“I’m going to bed,” he said.

“Josh,” Chris murmured, reaching for his arm. Josh pulled away and then walked over to the bedrooms, ducking inside and out of sight.

Ashley looked mortified. “Sorry,” she said. Chris shook his head.

“It’s not your fault. He’ll… he’ll be fine.” He sat down in Josh’s vacated seat.

No one said much after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you haven't heard stand by me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTCfQ6Bb8QE&ab_channel=Riahsha


	5. earning your keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misadventures and proving your worth — just an average day, in other words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why hello there gang, it's once again been way too long since i updated this fic. i'm going to try real hard to make the next update sooner, but in the meantime! here's a nice long chapter. thank you so much for sticking around. 
> 
> warnings for some injuries, violence, some kinda gross imagery? all the fun stuff. 
> 
> hope u enjoy and remember feedback is always super appreciated ;)

“How long is he going to keep this up?”

“Don’t say it like that. He’s hurting, Jess. Give him time.”

“Right. Time. It’s been _months_ , he’s only gotten worse and you know it.” An exasperated sigh. “Listen, I love Josh, you know I do. But we can’t expect to get all buddy-buddy with these people if he keeps having meltdowns all the time!”

Josh curled deeper into his sleeping bag, staring at the shelving that made up one wall. On the other side, Sam and Jess were having a heated whisper-argument. They didn’t know he could hear them, probably assuming he was already asleep. Or maybe Jessica wanted him to hear, so he’d know how fed up she was. He clenched one hand around the fabric of his bag, guilt and frustration coursing through him.

The tarp lifted, and Chris ducked into the small space. Instinctively, Josh looked over at him. Then he grimaced, realizing too late he’d given away that he wasn’t asleep.

Chris sat down next to him, patting his arm gently. “Hey,” he whispered. “Did I wake you up?”

Josh considered lying. “No,” he said finally. “I haven’t fallen asleep yet.”

“Oh,” Chris said. “So you heard…” he gestured to the direction of Sam and Jessica’s argument. Josh nodded, and Chris winced. “Yikes. Sorry, dude.”

“It’s whatever,” Josh said, rolling over to face Chris fully. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.” He paused. “Sorry for, you know, getting all weird.”

“No big deal,” Chris said. He eased onto his back, pillowing his head on his arm. “You were having fun though, right? Before, I mean. With the guitar.”

“Sure,” Josh said. He knew what Chris was trying to do. He was trying to draw him out of his shell, out of the protective casing he’d placed around himself. And he’d sort of succeeded, because Josh _had_ let his guard down out there, playing guitar and laughing along with everyone else. It was dangerous, and it was stupid. Getting attached only meant getting hurt, and Josh didn’t think he’d survive another blow after losing his sisters. It was for the best, for him and Chris both. Not that there was an easy way to tell Chris that.

And not that Chris was one to be deterred, either. He poked Josh’s side. “C’mon, bro, don’t give me that wishy-washy shit. You had fun. You were smiling, like a real smile. I was starting to wonder if you still knew how to do that.”

“Cut it out,” Josh said, pushing his arm away. “I’m trying to sleep, dude, leave me alone.”

Chris sucked in a frustrated breath, and Josh had a feeling he knew what was coming. “Why won’t you let me in?” Chris said, his voice low. “You used to talk to me. Sometimes I even thought…”

Josh cut him off. “Chris. Just stop, please.” He hesitated, and then reached out his hand, grabbing Chris’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said, because that’s all he could give him. He couldn’t bear to listen to Chris talk about the almosts, the could-have-beens. The best he could give him was an apology.

After a tense silence, Chris relented, and Josh felt the muscles in his arm relax. “Okay, Josh,” he said. “Just… I’m here, you know? Whenever you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

That wasn’t a promise anyone could make these days, and they both knew it too well, but Josh decided that for once, he wouldn’t point that out. Instead, he brushed his thumb over Chris’s pulse and allowed himself to appreciate the small miracle of his best friend, alive and breathing beside him.

***

Another brisk morning, and Chris was shivering under the sputtering spray of the makeshift shower. It was basically a glorified garden hose on a hook over a basin, but it got the job done. The water was ice-cold, though, and he could only stand to be under it for about two minutes before he had to step back, grabbing a threadbare towel from the stack on the floor.

As he stepped out of the basin and dried off, he caught sight of himself in the grime-spotted mirror propped up against the opposite wall. It had been a while since he’d had the time or ability to get a good look at his own reflection. He barely recognized himself. His hair was cropped short again, courtesy of Ashley. He really needed a shave, and the hard angle of his jaw was telling of malnourishment. That was new — with the hunters, they’d always had enough to eat. The past six months had been a jarring adjustment.

When he’d had enough of his impromptu self-examination, Chris pulled on his clothes, shoved his glasses on his face, and left the bathroom. He almost ran straight into Josh, and the two of them fumbled around each other for a moment.

“You cut your hair,” Josh said, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris said, a hand going instinctively to his head. “Um, Ashley did it for me. What do you think? Does it look okay?”

Josh shrugged. “Sure. But who cares? Who’re you trying to impress?”

Chris resisted the urge to scream, _you, asshole!_ in Josh’s face. Instead, he smiled tightly. “Yeah, good point.” He stepped to the side and gestured to the bathroom door. “Anyway, it’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” Josh didn’t move. He was still staring at Chris’s hair. “Maybe I should get a haircut, too,” he said thoughtfully. His hair was even longer than Chris’s had been, thick and curly and past his chin at this point. He looked kind of beautiful, if you asked Chris. Not that anyone was asking.

“I’m sure Ashley would do it for you,” Chris said.

“Hmm.” Josh’s expression clouded. “Not so sure I trust her with a sharp object by my neck just yet. Maybe you should do it.”

“Me? Bro, I don’t know shit about cutting hair.”

“How hard can it be? Just chop it all off, man.” He took a step closer to the bathroom. “I gotta take a leak. But you’ll do it?”

“I guess?” Chris said. Josh shot him a weary near-smile and shut the bathroom door behind him.

 

“Josh is being weird,” Chris said, sidling up next to Jessica outside their shared bedroom. She didn’t seem fazed.

“When is he not being weird,” she muttered. She was rifling through their backpacks, sorting things into piles. She glanced up at him and grinned. “Hey, nice haircut.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Ashley did it.”

Jessica’s grin widened. “Oh yeah? She seems nice.”

“She is,” Chris said, a little confused.

“I think she _likes_ you,” Jess continued. “She’s cute. You should go for it. It’d be good for you.”

“Jess,” Chris said irritably. “I’m not interested. You _know_ that.”

“Right. Because of Josh.” She straightened up, giving Chris a stern look. “How long are you going to carry a torch for him, Chris? When’s the last time he did anything besides push you away?”

“We were talking just now. He wants me to cut his hair,” Chris said.

Jess snorted. “Oh, well in _that_ case.” She put a hand on his arm. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying,” he said, shrugging her off. “And you’re wrong, okay? He just needs time.”

She sighed. “Alright, whatever you say.”

 

He tried not to let Jessica’s words get to him, but they stewed in the back of his mind, like they always did. He and Josh had been so close to something, right before their camp was attacked. After years of doubt and hesitation, it seemed they were finally on the same page. And then zombies were ripping through tents and Hannah and Beth and everyone they’d known for years were gone, and whatever almost-something Josh and Chris had been inching towards was shattered.

Josh approached Chris with a pair of scissors and said, “Alright, bro. Do your worst.”

“Don’t you mean best?” Chris said with a slight chuckle.

Josh laughed, a real laugh, and it settled warm in Chris’s stomach. “I’m not saying I don’t have confidence in your skills or anything, but….”

“Rude, Josh. So rude.” And maybe it was stupid for such a small exchange to give him hope, but it did. The old Josh was still in there somewhere, and Chris wasn’t going to give up on him.

***

“Hey, um, Josh? I need to talk to you.”

Josh started, staring at Ashley in surprise. The two groups had been joined for about a week, and in all that time Josh was pretty sure he hadn’t even spoken ten words to Ashley. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Well, Emily has a job she was hoping you and I could take care of?” Ashley said, her voice still filled with hesitance. “There’s this old shopping mall nearby, it’s kind of falling apart but there are some shops in there that might have useful stuff. So Em wants us to go… get it.”

“Why you and me? Seems kind of random,” Josh said.

Ashley shrugged. “I have no clue, that’s just what she said. So, you wanna do it? We should start sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Josh agreed reluctantly. Especially after his reaction that night with the guitar, he’d been trying to be a better team player. Jessica’s frustrated whispers to Sam still played in a loop in his head.

“Great,” Ashley said, looking relieved that he hadn’t taken more convincing. “So we’ve got some rope, hopefully it’ll be enough…”

“Wait, rope? For what?”

“Well, the bottom floor of the mall is busted in and collapsed outside, there’s no easy way in from the ground. But we can get in through the building next door, and then we just have to drop down into the mall from the upper floor.” Ashley said all of this as if it were both obvious and easy. Josh was appalled.

“How the fuck are we supposed to be able to do that?” he demanded.

“It won’t be so bad,” Ashley said. “We’ll be in and out. Come on, let’s grab our gear.”

Josh followed her to collect their backpacks and guns, even though every cell in his body was screaming that this was a terrible idea. His mind was sluggish and his reflexes weren’t top notch, not with all the Xanax running through his system. He only hoped that Ashley was competent enough for the both of them. On his way out, he passed the bedroom he shared with Chris, Sam, and Jess. Chris’s beanie was sitting on top of one of the walls. Josh hesitated for a moment before he took it and pulled it on. It was cold outside, and Chris had stopped wearing it now that his hair was short. He wouldn’t mind.

The shopping mall looked like it had fallen victim to one of the early military bomb drops. The building next door had toppled, collapsing so it leaned against the mall. Josh eyed the two buildings with trepidation, but Ashley didn’t seem all that bothered. She led the way into the leaning building, the coil of rope looped around her arm.

“We’ve used this before,” she explained. “Me and Emily came up here once to get stuff from the top floor of the mall.”

“Why didn’t you just get the downstairs then too?” Josh asked, stepping delicately over a precarious pile of rubble.

“We didn’t have the rope,” Ashley explained. “We got it a few weeks back, but we haven’t been able to work out a good time to get over here. Too many zombies. But it’s been quiet lately.”

“Yeah,” Josh agreed, looking around anxiously. “I don’t trust it.”

“Don’t say that,” Ashley said. They reached the area where the two buildings met. There was an opening from one to the next, and the upper walkway of the mall was mostly intact. Ashley led the way in, and she walked up to the edge, where a railing used to be. She peered down to the bottom floor of the mall. “Okay, so I’m thinking we tie the rope to something up here, and then we can just climb down.”

“Jesus,” Josh muttered, eyeing the long drop. “After you.”

They tied the rope to a doorframe and tossed it over the edge, watching it uncurl as it snaked its way down. It was just long enough to get them to the bottom. Ashley took a steeling breath, pulling her jacket tighter around herself, and then shimmied over the edge. Josh stood awkwardly, watching her. It was slow going; they would be here a while.

He had just decided to sit down while he waited when he heard a slithering sound. Turning around, he saw the knot in the rope had come undone, and it was rapidly unwinding from the doorframe and sliding forward. Panicking, Josh scrabbled for the rope, gripping it with both hands. It continued to slide, and he heard Ashley’s frightened scream.

“I’ve got it!” he yelled down to her, but the rope was still slipping, fast, and it dragged against his palms painfully. Finally, though, he was able to stop it, and he panted harshly, his hands hot and throbbing. “Ashley?” he called.

“I’m okay,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m at the bottom. Don’t let the rope go over the edge!” she added quickly.

Pulling the rope back up was agonizing, and only after it was safely piled at his feet did Josh dare look at his hands. His palms were slick with blood, the skin torn open. He felt a little queasy.

“Josh?” Ashley called up to him. “Are you okay?”

“Um, I don’t know,” he said. He sat heavily on the ground, head spinning.

“Throw the rope down,” Ashley said. “I’m coming back up.”

“But —”

“Just do it, Josh.”

Josh got up and wrapped the rope tightly around the doorframe again, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t come undone. His hands couldn’t handle the rope burn a second time. It took Ashley a good fifteen minutes to climb back up, but the rope held fast. Josh gritted his teeth against each pulse of pain in his hands.

When she reached the top, Ashley went to him immediately. She grabbed his wrists, staring at his hands in horror. “Oh god,” she said. “We need to get you back, I can patch you up.”

“No,” Josh said, voice tight.

Ashley frowned at him. “What do you mean, no? Your hands —”

“You want to know why we were sent out here?” Josh cut her off. “Why Emily picked me? Because I’m disposable, Ashley.” Jessica’s frustrated words once again played through his head. “All I’ve done is cause trouble for my friends, for everyone. We go back there empty-handed, it’s just one more strike against me.”

Ashley’s gaze hardened. “I don’t know what kind of people you came from, but we’re not like that. We don’t see our friends as disposable.” Her fingers, still wrapped around his wrists, dug into his skin. “Do you understand?”

Josh looked away from her, staring instead at the dirty ground. “Yeah.”

There was a tense silence, and then Ashley sighed. “If you’re sure you want to, we can finish the job. But will you at least let me wrap up your hands?”

“Fine,” Josh relented. Ashley took off her pack and dug around in it until she pulled out a roll of gauze. Josh held his hands out to her, palms up, and chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying as Ashley bandaged his wounds.

“Okay,” Ashley said when she’d finished. “Now we just need to climb back down. Are you going to be able to handle that?”

Josh nodded, though he honestly wasn’t sure. Ashley went down the rope first, and he followed. It was torture, every minute fighting the instinct to let go from the pain. After what felt like an eternity, they both made it to the bottom of the mall.

“So what’re we looking for?” Josh said, ignoring the blood that had seeped through his bandages.

“Warm clothes, medical supplies, weapons,” Ashley said, ticking the items off on her fingers. “Basic necessities, you know.”

“Gotcha,” Josh said. They walked through the mall in silence, finding their way into stores wherever they could. They gathered a half dozen sweaters, some large kitchen knives, and ten pairs of gloves. Josh put one of the pairs on to help pad his hands for the climb back up.

At one point, when Ashley went to shift some overturned boxes, a large cockroach crawled out. She yelped, throwing the box and jumping back.

Josh snorted. “What was that?”

“I don’t like roaches,” Ashley said, shuddering.

“We have to deal with rotting monster people but you’re scared of a bug?” he asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

She glared at him. “I’m not _scared_ of them, I just don’t like them. Shut up.”

They continued forward. As they drew closer to the far end of the mall, a horrible stench hit their noses. It was the rank smell of decay, choking in their throats.

Ashley clapped a hand over her nose. “Jeez, that’s bad,” she said.

“Shh,” Josh said. “You hear that?” He’d heard something shifting, over by a mass of rubble near the remains of a decorative fountain. They approached with caution, and found a zombie, half crushed under the debris. Its torso stuck out, and it writhed weakly. Josh wondered how long it had been stuck, and how it had gotten in.

“Should we shoot it?” Ashley asked.

“No, it’d be a waste of ammo,” Josh said.

“I guess,” she agreed. “But we should still kill it, right? It’s freaking me out.”

Josh sighed, and nudged one of the larger pieces of debris with his foot. “Could drop this on its head.”

Together they lifted the chunk of cement and let it clatter on top of the zombie’s skull. It squelched, bits of brain and skull spattering the ground around it. Ashley skittered back, looking disgusted.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said.

Josh agreed, and they turned to make their way back. After a moment, Josh found himself asking, “So what are you afraid of? Besides little tiny bugs, I mean.”

She shot him a look. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Making smalltalk.”

“Interesting topic choice,” she said, but she relented. “I’m scared of being killed by those things. The zombies. Being torn apart by them… god, what an awful way to go.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “What about you?” He shrugged, and she elbowed him. “Come on, you’re the one who brought it up.”

Fair enough. “I’m scared of losing people,” he said slowly. “Getting close to someone and them dying.” He swallowed against the ache in his throat. “And I’m scared of turning into a zombie. Like, what if they’re still people in there, you know? Just not able to control themselves.”

It was a fear that many people had, a topic of discussion that had bounced around from as early on as the safety zones. He tried not to dwell on it, and he hadn’t even brought it up in years.

Ashley shook her head. “They’re not people anymore.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“I guess I’m not sure,” she said. “But I have to believe that, otherwise it’d be too hard. Killing them, I mean. It’s easier to turn off my empathy when I think they’re not humans anymore.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Josh said.

Their conversation was cut short by a figure lurching at them from the side of the mall. A zombie rushed towards them, snarling and wailing, drool and blood hanging in strings from its open mouth. Josh swore, fumbling for his gun. What with the clunky gloves and the wounds on his palms, he could barely hold the weapon. Pain seized him once more.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, and he threw his gun to the floor and leaned back, kicking the zombie hard in the chest. He felt its ribs crack against his boot, and it slammed to the ground. Ashley had her gun out by this point, and she shot it in the skull.

“Shit,” she wheezed, resting her hands on her knees. “That scared me so bad.”

“Yeah, me too,” Josh said. He yanked the cumbersome gloves off his hands, bending down to retrieve his gun. “Where the fuck did it come from?” He squinted over at the side of the mall from which the zombie had emerged. To his disbelief, he saw an opening in the wall that led to the outside, wide enough for at least three people to walk through. He pointed to it, glaring at Ashley. “What the fuck?”

She seemed just as surprised as he was. “I swear, I had no idea that was there. I thought we searched the whole perimeter for a way in!”

Josh couldn’t help but laugh. Adrenaline coursed through him, and the utter ridiculousness of the situation hit him all at once. Ashley started laughing too, and they both headed for the exit. “Un-fucking-believable,” Josh said.

 

When Ashley and Josh came through the back door to the Walgreens, Chris rushed over to them. “You’re back!” he said, relief evident in his tone. “How’d it go?” Then he caught sight of Josh’s hands, covered in bloodied bandages. “Oh my god, what happened to you?”

“It’s fine, man, just a little rope burn,” Josh said dismissively.

Chris was not convinced. “How did this happen?”

“The rope slipped while I was climbing down,” Ashley cut in. “He saved me.”

Josh felt his ears grow hot, and when Chris beamed at him, he looked away. “Stop it. It was what anyone would’ve done.”

“Yeah, but still,” Chris said. “You did good, man.”

Josh wanted to protest more, but before he could, Chris had yanked him into a hug. He stiffened at first, frozen to the spot, but then he couldn’t help but sag against his friend. It had been a long, exhausting few hours, he was sore and overstimulated, and Chris’s touch was soothing.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Chris mumbled. “You guys were gone a while, I was… I was worried.” When he released Josh, his gaze was soft. “Hey, you’re wearing my hat.”

“Oh,” Josh said. He’d nearly forgotten. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Chris said. “You can keep it. It suits you.”

“Hides the shit haircut you gave me,” Josh said, the moment becoming too sincere for him to handle.

“Shut up, it’s not that bad!” Chris said, laughing. His smile was bright and wonderful, and Josh wished more than anything that he could force Chris not to care.


	6. the past — home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another look to the past. Life with the hunters isn't all it's cracked up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't planning on updating this so soon, but i got struck with an idea for this flashback and i just couldn't help myself tbh. enjoy!!! 
> 
> warnings: violence, gory imagery, gross imagery?

_NINE MONTHS POST-OUTBREAK_

 

_Crack_. The rough knuckles hit high on Josh’s cheek, and he crumpled to his knees, pain spiking across his face. His eyes watered, but he narrowed them to look up at the man who’d hit him.

“You think this is a fucking game, punk?” the hunter growled. “You think you can just take from us and get away with it? That we wouldn’t notice?”

“Pretty much,” Josh said.

The hunter looked ready to kick Josh’s face in, but at that moment Jack’s voice rang through the yard. “What the hell is going on out here?” he barked, and Josh watched him push past the small circle of people that had gathered to watch Josh get the hell beaten out of him.

“He was stealing, Jack,” the hunter said, holding out the can of peaches Josh had taken from the kitchens. “I told you these kids are nothing but trouble.”

Jack held up a hand, cutting the hunter off. He knelt down so he was at Josh’s level, his one good eye flitting across Josh’s face. “Peaches, huh?” he said. “Who’re these for, kid?”

Josh set his jaw, meeting Jack’s gaze. “Me,” he said coolly.

“Now, see, I don’t think that’s true,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t risk getting a fist in the face for yourself. So who’d you take the peaches for, Josh? Which one of your little friends is worth the hit?”

Sometimes, it felt like Jack’s gaze was omnipresent, around every corner of the rec center. Right now, it was piercing through Josh’s chest into his heart. Still, he repeated, “They’re for me. Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’ve got guts, kid. I’ve always liked that about you. But listen closely.” His expression quickly shifted into one of cold, unfeeling authority. “You and your friends have been given a gift. The most precious gift of all: your lives.”

“Right,” Josh scoffed.

“Boy, I could kill you so fast you wouldn’t even have time to blink!” Jack snarled, and Josh flinched. “You and your friends are alive because I allowed it. And now you are one of us, you’re in our ranks. That means you play by the rules, you hear me?”

Josh nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other, after all.” Jack got to his feet, took the can of peaches from the other hunter and dropped them at Josh’s feet. “And in the future, when you want some extra food? Just ask.”

 

Josh stomped into what had been dubbed the “youth barracks,” really just a small room with beds for him, the twins, Sam, Chris, and Jessica. His sisters and Chris were in there already, and they all looked startled at the sight of him.

“Happy birthday,” Josh grunted to the twins, setting the can of peaches down in front of Hannah and Beth. Hannah picked up the can, turning it over in her hands with confusion written all over her face.

Beth grabbed Josh’s wrist before he could walk away. “Where the hell were you? What happened to your face?”

“It’s nothing,” Josh snapped, yanking his arm away. “You like peaches, don’t you? Jesus. You’re welcome.”

“Josh…” Hannah said, setting the can down on the table. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s your birthday,” Josh said, staring pointedly at the can instead of his sister. “They didn’t have a cake and candles in the kitchen, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Did you _steal_ this?” Hannah asked.

Instead of replying, Josh crossed over to his bed and sat down, pressing two fingers gingerly against his sore cheek and wincing. A moment later, Chris sat beside him, his knee bumping against Josh’s.

“Who hit you?” he asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Josh said.

“The hell it doesn’t. Who did it, man?”

Josh gave Chris an appraising look. “Why, you gonna go kick his ass? It was some asshole twice your size, who had no problem socking a kid in the face, alright? So let it go.”

Chris sighed, and slid his hand over to grip Josh’s leg, shaking it slightly. “You’ve got to stop getting yourself into trouble, bro. We’ve been here a month already, you can’t keep this shit up.”

“Yeah, Chris, I know, alright?” Josh said. “Fuck, my head is killing me.”

“That looks like it hurts,” Chris said. Josh gave him a sidelong look that meant _no shit_ , and Chris laughed. “Okay, relax. I’ll go get Jess to get you some ice.” He stood up, patting Josh on the shoulder.

“Don’t tell her what I did,” Josh called after him as he made for the door. “She’ll just get on my ass about it.”

Chris mimed zipping his lips shut, and he grinned before he left the room. Josh marveled at the honesty in Chris’s smile, and the fact that there was enough left in him to look happy. Then he wanted to kick himself. It had only been nine months since things went to shit; was that really all it took for him to lose all hope?

Hannah got up from the table and came over to his bed. He smelled the syrupy-sweet scent of canned fruit, and looked up to see that she was holding the open peaches can out to him. “You want one?” she asked.

He shook his head. “They’re yours.”

“Just take a damn peach, Josh,” Hannah said, and Josh was so surprised by her tone that he complied, reaching into the can and pulling out a peach slice, yellow and slick with juice. Hannah’s expression softened, and she ruffled his hair.

“Happy birthday, sis,” Josh said softly.

***

_TWO YEARS POST-OUTBREAK_

 

The couple in their beat-up family car were young, maybe early twenties. The backseat of the car held their entire world in a couple of suitcases. The man was driving, knuckle-white grip on the steering wheel, eyes searching every which way as he scanned the horizon for —

“Honey, stop!” The woman clutched his arm, pointing at the figure that had just wandered into the road ahead. It was a girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, blonde hair plaited down her back and a look of fear on her dirt-streaked face. She was flagging them down, and the man slammed on the breaks. He cranked down the window and leaned his head out as she approached.

“Please, I need help,” the girl said, a desperate edge to her voice. “Do you have any weapons?”

The man eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”

“My sister was bitten,” the girl whimpered. “She’s back there.” She pointed to a building a few feet down the road. “I can’t let her turn, but…” She sniffled, wiping at her nose. “Please, do you have a gun?”

The man and the woman looked at each other, and then the man leaned over to the glovebox and took out their gun, a simple handgun he used to keep in his bedside drawer in case of a burglar. He got out of the car, and with only a twinge of hesitation handed the gun to the girl.

“Is this the only one you have?” she asked, turning it over in her hands like she wasn’t sure how to use it.

“Do you not know how to shoot it?” he asked gently. “I can —”

“No,” the girl said, and her voice was different now, all traces of panic and tearfulness gone. “I know how to shoot a gun.” She pointed it at him, taking a few steps back so she was out of reach, and all the man could think as more people, grown men, appeared from the sides of the road to encircle the car, was _oh shit_.

 

Jessica was practically skipping as she entered the building where the other kids were waiting. It was a toy store, most of the toys scattered on the floor or long since stolen, but the shelving and registers were still there (though the money was gone). It was a big place, but even so, Josh, Chris, Sam, and the twins stuck close together by the front entrance. Chris felt sick to his stomach as he took in the self-satisfied smile on Jessica’s face.

“You know, if the world hadn’t turned into Night of the Living Dead, I think I would’ve gone into acting,” she said, hopping up onto the register counter and kicking her legs. “Like, not to brag, but I am so good at this.”

“Congratulations,” Beth said, voice dry and bitter. Chris couldn’t blame her; his eyes kept wandering of their own accord to the car a little ways down the road, at the huddle of hunters blocking the young man and woman from view. Even though he hadn’t played a role in this particular job, he’d already done a few in the more than year that they’d been hunters. The difference was, he didn’t _grin_ when he walked away.

Two gunshots, and everyone except Jessica and Josh flinched. Chris didn’t know how Josh did it, how he numbed himself to this so quickly. He’d never seemed scared, not since that first night when they’d been taken. He’d been plenty angry, but that was different. Chris wished he could just be angry, instead of fucking terrified.

The hunters started to gather items from the car, ready to move things back to Jack’s big truck. “Guess we should go help,” Sam sighed, pushing away from the counter. The others made to follow her when a cacophony of snarls and wails echoed from the buildings surrounding the toy store.

“What the fuck?” Josh breathed, as they all stilled, waiting.

From down the road, one of the hunters raised his gun and bellowed, “Infected!”

It was like a floodgate had been opened, and suddenly dozens of zombies were pouring into the street. It was more than Chris had ever seen in one place, stumbling and gurgling as they rushed at the hunters in the road. And then they were coming into the store, and Chris was running. He didn’t look to see where anyone else had gone, just vaulted over the counter and booked it towards the back of the store, scrambling in his pockets for a weapon. All he had was a pocketknife, and he could hear the sick snarls of a zombie behind him. He threw himself behind one of the shelves and fumbled with the knife, hands shaking. The blade was so damn tiny — he’d have to get right up close to do any damage.

Chris shifted on his knees, peering through the slats in the shelves. He couldn’t see Sam or Beth or Josh, but Hannah and Jessica were cornered by a zombie in the sports section. Hannah’s hand groped at the shelf behind her, fingers closing on an oversized child’s softball, and she threw it at the zombie with all her might. The ball hit it square in the face, and it stumbled backwards. Jessica had found two tin baseball bats, and she shoved one in Hannah’s hands before swinging hard at the zombie’s ribs. Chris turned away from the brutal scene and told himself to breathe. _In through the nose. Out through the mouth._

A zombie rounded the corner. Chris tried to get to his feet, but his shoe caught on a stray stuffed animal strewn on the floor, and he fell on his ass. The pocketknife flew from his grip and skittered across the floor. He scrambled backwards, eyes darting between the zombie and the floor, praying he’d find a weapon. The monster lunged at him, pinning him to the ground, and Chris shouted, “Shit!” as the zombie’s putrid breath burned his lungs and brought tears to his eyes —

And then a hand reached around the zombie’s throat, and a knife wedged into the greying flesh and yanked, blood spraying Chris in the face as the zombie’s neck came open, and it went still as it was shoved to the side, off of Chris. Josh was standing there, panting, his hand and Chris’s pocketknife covered in blood.

“Did it bite you?” Josh demanded, his gaze intense as he stared down at Chris. Chris shook his head, frantic, and he opened his mouth to speak. All that came out was a wheezing half-sob, and Josh knelt down next to him, hurriedly wiping the blood off Chris’s face with his sleeve.

“I-I thought — I thought it was going to —” Chris babbled, heart hammering against his ribs and lungs seizing as they tried to pull in air. He felt a warm pressure against the side of his face, and realized Josh was cupping his cheek.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Josh said. “Look at me. You’re okay.” Chris forced himself to meet Josh’s eyes, and he nodded slowly.

“I’m okay,” he repeated.

Boots stomping across the floor, the familiar gait of normal, uninfected humans, and a hunter rounded the corner to stare down at them. He looked winded, and his gun was held tightly in his hand. “You kids get hurt?” he asked. Both boys shook their heads, and Josh rose to his feet, reaching down to pull Chris up as well. The hunter smiled grimly. “The area’s clear for now. But Jack wants us to leave immediately, in case more come through.” He glanced down at the zombie Josh had killed, and nodded approvingly. “Nice one.”

When Chris saw the girls standing by Jack’s truck, he could’ve wept. They were all okay; once again, by some miracle, they’d all survived. In fact, none of the hunters had been bitten, though there had been some close calls. On the ride home, the adults talked loudly about the many brutal ways they’d killed the zombies, while Chris stared out the window and found himself thinking about the two civilians they’d killed instead.

 

He was still thinking of the young couple that evening, when he and Josh were sitting on a threadbare couch in the rec center, Josh idly flipping through a comic book.

“How much longer are we gonna do this?” Chris found himself asking.

Josh stilled, but didn’t look up from the page. “Do what?”

“This. Being with the hunters.” Chris stared at the side of Josh’s head, wishing his friend would make eye contact. “I just… I really think maybe we should try to go back to California.”

Josh finally looked away from the comic book, staring at the wall straight ahead and snorting derisively. “Why would we do that?”

“To go home!” Chris said, incredulous. “Because I want to see my mom again —”

“Your mom is dead, Chris, okay?” Josh snapped. He was looking at Chris now, eyes glinting and furious. “And so is mine.”

Chris felt like he’d been slapped; he stared at Josh, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed with a mix of anger and hurt.

“I mean _fuck_ , man. How do you not get it yet? California isn’t home anymore, we don’t have homes. There’s only this place, there’s only killing until someone else kills us.” Josh’s words lost their venom at the end, and he put his head in his hands. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and I got us into this shit. I’m sorry.”

The inches of space between them felt as vast as oceans, and Chris wasn’t sure how to bridge the distance. He reached out a hand, hesitant, and put it on the small of Josh’s back. Josh stiffened at first, and then he raised his head and looked at Chris again. His eyes were dark, wide and sad. Neither of them spoke, neither of them looked away.

“I’m sorry I said that about your mom,” Josh said at last, tearing his gaze away to stare at his knees. “She’s a tough lady, I bet she made it.”

“I bet yours did, too,” Chris said. “I mean, I know she’s tiny, but so’s Sam — and she knows how to handle herself.”

Josh cracked a weary smile. “Right. You’re right.” He sighed, long and slow. “I’m an asshole. This place is fucking me up.”

“It’s alright,” Chris said. He rubbed Josh’s back, and this time Josh leaned into the touch, tilting sideways until their shoulders brushed. “And for the record, you’re wrong about one thing.” Josh looked at him curiously, and Chris continued, “We do have a home. Wherever we’re all together, that’s home.”

Josh grinned, and he elbowed Chris in the ribs. “You fucking sap. That’s adorable. Get outta here.”

Chris laughed. “Whatever, man. I’m just saying.” Their chuckles faded, and Chris grew serious again. “Thanks for saving my ass today, by the way.”

“What was I gonna do, let you get chowed on by a zombie?” Josh scoffed. His brows knit together momentarily, and then he sighed again. “If anything like that ever happens to me — if I get bitten, I mean — don’t let me turn, okay?”

Chris felt a cold line run up his spine. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to be a monster,” Josh said. “So if something happens, I need you to just put me out of my misery before I turn into a zombie.”

“Jesus, Josh,” Chris said.

“Promise me, man,” Josh insisted. “I’d do it for you, you know I would.”

“Yeah, but I’m not asking,” Chris said. “Look, you’re not gonna get bitten, Josh. Neither of us are. So quit it with all the doom and gloom, for Christ’s sake.” He took in the sour expression on Josh’s face, the way the muscles in his back had tensed again, and chewed on his lip for a moment before adding, “But if it really means that much to you, I promise.”

Josh nodded, and then raised a finger to tap at his own forehead. “Just a straight shot, right here. Easy and painless. No turning into something… not-me.”

“Can we talk about something else now?” Chris said, feeling antsy and sick to his stomach. “Preferably nothing death related?”

Josh’s easy grin returned, slow and a bit forced, but it was there. He shrugged out of Chris’s touch, picking up his comic book again. “Yeah, bro. Sorry. Here, read this with me. It’s good stuff. You should see the way the tits are drawn in this thing.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but leaned in to look at the page Josh had open nonetheless.


	7. straw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know, the one that breaks the camel's back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness it's been SO long since i updated this fic. i recently moved and life has been kind of a hectic mess since then, but i finally got around to finishing this chapter. i'm sorry for the delay!!!! i'll try for the next one to not take a month plus to get out, lmao.
> 
> this one's all josh, but there will be more chris POV next time
> 
> warnings in this chapter for violence/death (not of any of the main characters)

It had been a long time since Josh had felt anything like a routine in his life. Even when they’d been with the hunters, the routine had felt more like punishment — like prison. But at the Walgreens, this new life felt almost _normal_. They’d been there a month and a half, and the two groups were thoroughly melded. About two weeks in, Jessica started sleeping in Mike’s bunk. The two of them seemed genuinely happy, flirting and laughing. It made Josh’s throat feel tight, his stomach sour with jealousy that it was so easy for them.

It seemed that everyone had mostly forgotten about Josh’s meltdown with the guitar, or at least pretended to. Sometimes it felt like Chris and Ashley were the only ones who didn’t walk on eggshells around him. They even tried to get him to play their weird secret nerd game with them in the storage room, but there weren’t enough cards to go around and Josh had found the game pointless even Before, when the world was normal. Still, it was nice that they tried. He had to keep telling himself that.

When he didn’t have anything better to do, Josh liked to sit outside the store, against the back wall, staring out at the broken horizon. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular, and the Xanax made him fuzzy and unfocused, but it made him feel better to be outside. The air was crisp and getting colder every day.

One such day, Jessica found him sitting outside and nodded at the dirt next to him. “Mind if I join ya?” she asked. He shrugged, and she dropped down beside him, legs crossed.

For a few minutes, there was just a comfortable silence between them, nothing but the wind rustling through the overgrown plants. Josh watched the goosebumps raise on his arm.

“You’re out here a lot,” Jess commented. “You’re always like, staring out there. What are you looking for?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just spacing out, honestly.”

“Oh.” Jess shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I wondered if maybe you were like, you know. Looking for them.”

She didn’t have to say who she was referring to, and Josh felt the sharpness in his ribs, the broken glass feeling he worked so hard to suppress. “Nope,” he said hoarsely.

“Sometimes I look for them, too,” Jess told him. He turned to look at her, a little surprised. For all their time together, Jessica and the twins had never been particularly close.

“I didn’t know that,” he said.

“Not just Hannah and Beth,” Jess said, and God but their names hurt to hear. She didn’t seem to notice, pressing on, “I mean everyone, the rest of our group. I keep hoping one day we’ll all find each other again.”

Josh’s brow furrowed. Finding the hunters again was the last thing he wanted to do. “Why do you want to go back?” he asked her. “They were awful people, Jess. They made  _us_ awful people.”

It was something he’d always wondered, why she seemed to like being a hunter, but he’d never intended to ask. The words just spilled out before he could stop them, and she blinked at him for a moment before responding.

“They were my family,” she told him, and there was something so sad in the way she said it. “When the outbreak happened, my parents got infected. I’m not sure how, it just happened. I woke up one night and they were both raging, eyes all bloodshot and horrible. You know how it is.” He nodded, wanting her to continue. She’d never told him this story before. “I locked myself in my room, but I forgot — I forgot to check on my sister. She was in the other room, and they got to her. I could hear them through the wall and I was so scared. I just waited and waited until finally everything was quiet.”

Josh didn’t want to imagine tiny, fourteen-year-old Jessica listening to her parents tear her sister apart. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “So what did you do?”

“I ran away,” she said. “I mean, fuck, what else was I going to do? I just ran away and then I found Jack. He was my neighbor, he lived like three doors down from me. Everyone always thought he was some lunatic because he had all these like, provisions and shit in his house. Like he was preparing for the apocalypse.” She laughed bitterly. “Guess the joke was on us. Anyway, he’d always been nice to me, and when I told him what happened, he said he’d take care of me. Said he had a group of people that would protect me, and we’d all be safe.”

“You always seemed to like it,” Josh said. “What we did.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jess snapped. “When I was younger, Jack never let me watch the killing part. It was easier to just, I don’t know, pretend it was a game? It was my life, I didn’t have a choice. In case you didn’t notice, when he started making me stay the whole time, I stopped thinking it was so fun.”

“Then why the fuck do you want to find them again?” Josh asked, frowning. Jess never made sense to him, and he was more confused now than ever.

“Because I don’t have anything else!” she exclaimed. “My family is dead. Jack took care of me. He was a horrible person, but he’s all I have.”

Angry tears shone in Jessica’s eyes, and Josh couldn’t hold the intensity of her gaze. He looked down at his knees. “You have us,” he offered quietly. “You have this place. Maybe this is better.”

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to say it, but Jess softened. She put her hand on his arm, and he didn’t flinch away for once. “It could be better for you too, you know,” she said.

Josh cut his eyes to her briefly. She was looking at him like she always did, like she saw right through his bullshit. “Sure,” he said, trying to appease her so she’d stop staring at him. “Maybe.”

“You’re so fucking dumb, Josh,” she said, but she sounded almost fond. She stood up, dusting herself off, and sighed heavily. “Hey. Let’s keep what I told you between us for now, okay?”

“Sure thing, Jess,” he said.

***

_Clang. Crash._ Josh woke with a start, sitting up in the dark and listening hard. Someone was shuffling around inside the building, and it couldn’t be one of their own because none of them would be bumbling around crashing into shit. Well, Chris might, but Chris was in the sleeping bag next to Josh, out cold.

As he continued to listen to the someone — or some _thing_ , his brain supplied helpfully — move about in the store, an icy wash of panic came over him. Something was inside, something was inside and —

 

_“They’re here, they’re inside, we have to go right now!”_

_“Where’s Hannah and Beth? I’m not leaving without them!”_

_Screaming, the stench of blood and death and rot…_

 

No. Josh swallowed the lump of anxiety that was coiling in his throat. He shoved the memories back down, locked them away. This wasn’t the time for that. He leaned over and shook Chris awake. “Chris,” he breathed, not trusting his voice not to shake if he spoke any louder than the softest whisper. “Wake up. There’s someone in here.”

Chris snapped awake, fumbling for his glasses and squinting at Josh in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “What? Who?”

“Shh,” Josh hissed. The two of them sat in silence, listening. Another loud misstep, and this time an unfamiliar voice grunted an expletive. Chris’s eyes widened, and he crawled out of his bag, inching towards the tarp that led to the outside. Josh wanted to yank him back, just wanted to hide and let the people take whatever they were going to take; instead, he followed behind Chris, chest tight, and they both peered out into the main part of the store.

Josh caught sight of Emily, eyes glittering in the darkness, peering out from her own bed area. She must’ve heard them, too. She looked over at him and held a finger to her lips. He nodded. There was no sign yet of whoever was in the store.

Suddenly, a beam of light cut through the dark, followed by another. Two flashlights, powerful and bright, shone directly in their faces.

“What the fuck?” Chris said, holding his hand in front of his eyes. By this point, everyone had woken up, heads poking out of tarps and various noises of distress and confusion.

“Who’s there?” Emily demanded. She had crawled out and was standing with her arms crossed, shoulders a firm line.

The lights lowered, and there were two men standing there. “Just looking for supplies,” one of them said, lifting one hand in surrender. “We don't want any trouble.”

“What do you need?” Emily asked. She still looked hesitant, guarded.

“Just some food,” the second man said. “We’ve got others waiting for us, they’re very hungry.”

Josh looked at his companions. Ashley was still crouched by her tarp opening, eyes wide with concern. Matt and Sam both had pitying looks on their faces. He was glad that Jess and Mike were both outside on watch duty, because either of them would have likely escalated the situation. Although he had to wonder how the fuck they’d missed two guys coming in the front door.

“Ashley, go check and see if we have a few cans of food we can give them,” Emily said, not taking her eyes off the two men. Josh shifted his gaze back to them, too, and something about them made him increasingly uneasy. It was the way they were holding themselves, the practiced quality of their words… it was familiar in a way that made his skin crawl. When the light shifted, Josh noticed the armband on one of the men’s sleeves, a patch with a picture of a wolf. _Shit_. He had a distinct memory of Jack spreading out a chart of different hunter groups’ insignias, explaining which ones were threats. He remembered Jack scoffing at the image of a wolf, saying that group was full of morons.

Josh reached over and subtly tugged on Chris’s sleeve, but as soon as they made eye contact he realized he didn’t need to. Chris’s expression told Josh that he’d seen the patch, too.

When he saw the first man reaching for something in the back of his belt, Josh was ready for it. He and Chris surged forward, body-slamming both men to the ground. The others yelped in surprise, and one of the men let out a furious growl, trying to unpin his arm from under Josh’s elbow. He fired his gun at nothing, and Ashley screamed.

“They’re hunters!” Chris shouted, his arm pressing into the throat of one of the men.

Josh wrested the gun from the hunter’s grip, and with a quick shot the man was dead. “Move!” he said to Chris, and Chris shifted just enough for Josh to shoot the other hunter as well. He was nauseous at how easy it had been for the muscle memory to kick in. It had been a while since he’d killed anyone who wasn’t a zombie.

He clambered off of the dead body, breath coming a little raggedly, and turned to look at the others. The flashlights had clattered to the floor when he and Chris had tackled the hunters, and now they were rolling across the floor and sending skittering light across the store. Emily, Matt, and Ashley were staring at them in shock. Sam’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Fast thinking there,” Ashley said finally, giving them a shaky smile. Neither of them could find it in themselves to return it.

“Seriously, you guys just saved our asses. Is everyone okay?” Matt asked.

“No, we’re not okay,” Emily snapped. “We almost got fucking killed. Those two never should have been able to get inside. Where the _fuck_ are Mike and Jessica?”

There was a hurried stomping from outside, and Jess and Mike burst through the back doors. “We heard gunshots,” Mike said, sounding short of breath. He caught sight of the bodies and his eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

“What the actual fuck, Michael!” Emily demanded, storming over to them. “You were supposed to be on watch! You better start explaining right now.”

“Em, just calm down,” Mike began, and Josh wouldn’t have been surprised if steam shot out of Emily’s ears.

“Every single person in this building was counting on you two to keep us safe, and we almost got killed. So no, Mike, I’m not going to calm down. I want to know how you let fucking _hunters_ get in here!”

“Hunters?” Jess repeated. She stared at the bodies, eyes narrowing, and Josh wondered if she was trying to see if she recognized them.

“Yes, hunters, and they were a second away from shooting us all dead,” Emily snarled. “Mike, you _know_ what people like that are capable of, how could you let them get inside?”

“We didn’t see them,” Jess answered instead. “We were… distracted.”

Now that Josh really got a look at them, Mike and Jess _did_ seem pretty disheveled. He closed his eyes and sighed, irritation surging through him. Of all the times to act fucking stupid….

“Are you telling me,” Emily said, her voice dangerously quiet, “that we got jumped by hunters because you were too busy screwing?”

“Now, Emily —” Mike began.

“Get out.” Emily’s expression was stone-cold.

“What?” Jess said, appalled.

Mike, however, just seemed resigned. “Are we really doing this right now?” he said tiredly. “It’s the middle of the night, Em.”

“No. You — you of all people should know — I’ve had it with this shit, Michael! I can excuse a lot of things, and believe me I do, but this? Unacceptable.” She pointed to the front door. “Both of you, get your things and go. Right now.”

“Hold on, let’s talk about this,” Sam said, lifting her hands placatingly. Emily shot her a furious look, and Mike just brushed her comment off.

“It’s fine, Sam. There’s no reasoning with her when she’s like this.” He seemed to notice that Jess was still staring at him, aghast, and he leaned over to say something too soft for anyone else to hear. Jessica’s brow furrowed for a moment, and then slowly she nodded, seeming at least somewhat appeased.

Sam and Chris looked shocked by the turn things had taken, but Ashley and Matt both seemed more exasperated than anything. Jess and Mike grabbed a few things from their bunk, and then headed for the door without so much as a goodbye. Josh grabbed Jessica’s arm as she passed him.

“What are you doing?” he said, frowning at her. “You’re seriously just going to leave?”

“We’ll be back,” Jess said confidently. “Don’t worry about me, Josh.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

She sighed, flicking one of her braids over her shoulder and fixing him with a stare. “Okay, maybe I’m not sure. So just in case, here’s one last piece of unsolicited advice.” She lowered her voice so only he could really hear her. “You’re tough, Josh. And you’re important to everyone here. So you getting your shit together isn’t a suggestion, it’s a requirement. Got it?”

It was as if she had slapped him, but Mike was hovering impatiently and Emily was shooting daggers at them, so he let go of Jessica’s wrist and nodded slowly. “Be safe out there,” he said.

She smiled reassuringly at him before following Mike out the front door.

Matt let out a long, slow breath, shaking his head. “What a mess,” he muttered.

“What the hell was that?” Chris demanded.

“This happens sometimes,” Ashley said, glancing at Emily.

“What are you talking about?” Chris said. “Are you saying Mike’s been kicked out before?”

“Mike and Emily have a… history,” Matt said. Emily scoffed.

“Is someone going to elaborate, or are you just going to keep being weird and vague?” Chris asked irritably.

“A few months after the outbreak, my parents were killed by hunters,” Emily said abruptly. All eyes turned to her. “I was hidden, and I heard them kill my parents and laugh about it after. After that, I found a safety zone and Mike and I met up. I’d met him in high school, you know, Before. I was all alone, and he was the only person I knew.” She stared off into space, lost in memories. “We looked out for each other, for a while. But he’s turned into _such_ a douchebag. He tried to shoot me once! And this? He knows what happened to my family, and he — he was trying to brush it off!” She was getting angry again. “Fuck him.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Sam reached over and put her arm around Emily’s shoulders. To Josh’s surprise, Emily slumped, leaning against Sam’s side. He hadn’t seen her react that way to anyone but Matt. Then again, Sam had that effect on pretty much everyone.

“You two reacted so fast,” Emily said suddenly. “How did you know? That they were hunters?”

“The patches on their arms,” Josh said. “It’s a hunter thing.”

Emily frowned, clearly confused, and Josh’s heart thudded louder in his ears. The hunter insignias weren’t a widely known thing, it was mostly to distinguish themselves to other hunters. Shit, shit, Emily was going to realize they were former hunters. He’d revealed too much, and she was sharp, she’d put two and two together —

“We’ve had our fair share of run-ins with hunters,” Chris said without missing a beat. “We’ve actually seen this group before, with the wolf patch? That’s how we knew.”

Emily nodded, seeming to buy it. “Okay. Well, thanks. You saved all our asses.” She shrugged out of Sam’s embrace and went to the back of the store, grabbing a gun from the weapons table on her way. After a moment, Sam followed her outside.

“If she’s kicked Mike out before, why does she keep letting him back in?” Josh asked, once he’d stopped having a minor heart attack at the close call. “If she hates him so much.”

“Because at this point he’s like… family, I guess,” Matt said thoughtfully. “He’s all she has from Before. She might hate his guts most of the time, but there’s enough there for her to let him back in. It might not make sense, but that’s how it is.”

Josh thought back to his conversation with Jessica the other day. “No, it kinda does make sense,” he said.

They dragged the hunters’ bodies outside and then collectively decided to at least try to get a little sleep. Everything would be easier to parse in the morning, or so they hoped.

When they were back in their sleeping bags, Josh faced the wall, but he could feel Chris’s eyes on his back. “Hey,” Chris said quietly. Josh said nothing. “Are you awake?”

Josh sighed, still facing the other wall. “What is it, Chris.”

“You doing okay? You seemed kinda shaken up.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I do,” Chris said, a twinge of irritation in his tone. “I know you’re like, determined to keep me away and everything, bro, but if shit’s affecting you, maybe it’d help if you talked about it. I’m right here. I’m listening.”

The silence stretched so long that Josh almost decided he wasn’t going to answer at all. Then he rolled over, still not making eye contact. “I heard them inside, before I woke you up. That’s all.”

“But why —” Chris cut himself off, looking like he’d figured something out. “It reminded you of that night. With the hunters, when the twins...”

“That’s enough psychoanalysis for one night, thanks,” Josh interrupted. “Jesus, what are you, my shrink?” He tried to sound angry, but his voice was shaky with badly concealed hurt, tears stinging his eyes.

“Just get some rest,” Chris said softly, and the tenderness in his voice made Josh ache. “We’re safe now. It’s all good.”

“Right,” Josh said, a dry laugh escaping him. “Safe.”

 

They’d only been asleep again for a couple of hours when Emily came into their sleeping area and shook them both awake.

“There’s a car coming,” she whispered.

“More hunters?” Chris asked, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Maybe. Come look.”

They followed her out to the front of the store, where the others were already crouched by the partially-open front door. The sputtering sound of an engine was growing closer, and then it came into view. It was a jeep, a crudely painted wolf on the side. The car was moving jerkily, and then all of a sudden it veered to the side and slammed into a building at full speed. The front of the car crumpled like an accordion, the loud crunch and clang of metal against cement.

“What the fuck?” Emily said.

“They crashed,” Matt said.

“Yes, Matt, I can see that,” Emily snapped. “Why the hell did they just drive into the wall?” She stood up and slipped out the front door, gun in hand. The rest of them followed, shivering slightly against the early morning chill. The sun was barely starting to rise, bathing everything in a pinkish glow.

When Emily pulled the passenger side door of the car open, a body flopped out. It was a zombie; the greying skin and bloodied mouth made it obvious. Luckily, it appeared to be dead. The driver was dead too, a fresh bite mark high on his neck.

“Jesus,” Sam muttered, wrinkling her nose. “He must’ve turned and then tried to take a bite out of the driver.”

“Good riddance,” Emily said, stepping back. She surveyed the wreck, and when her eyes fell on the back end of the car, a slow smile spread across her face. “Ashley, do we still have an extra hose in storage?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Ashley said. “What are you thinking?”

Emily turned to face the group. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we just might be able to get our car running again.”


	8. the things we fear the most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having access to a car brings about all kinds of new ways to get into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, i said i'd try to not take a month to get this chapter out.... turns out i took two! in my defense, i've been doing nanowrimo all last month so i didn't have much time to write this. but i didn't give up!!! and the release of the last of us 2 trailer got me shook up enough to wanna finally get this posted. i hope you forgive me, anyone who's still reading.
> 
> warning for uhhhhh violence? injuries? smooches?

In the back storage of the Walgreens, there was a beat-up pickup truck. It had chipped paint and a few rust spots, and the glass in the back window was completely busted out, but it was functional. It took the rest of the morning to get the gas out of the hunters’ wrecked car and into the pickup, and by that time Emily was wary of going on a test drive.

“We need to be smart about this,” she told the rest of them. “If those hunters are still in the area, they’ll be looking for their men right now. We should wait until dawn tomorrow, we’ll be less visible.”

“Where do you want to go for our first drive?” Matt asked. “The shopping center?” He turned to Sam, Josh, and Chris, and then pointed somewhere down the road. “There’s a little strip mall with a bunch of stores a few miles that way. We were planning to go there months ago, before we ran out of juice.”

“That’ll work,” Emily agreed. “Sam and I can go check it out. Matt, can you do a perimeter check that morning? We’ll want to be on high alert for the next few days.”

Everyone seemed excited at the prospect of the car, but Josh just felt on edge. After all, Emily was right — the hunters were likely still nearby, and driving around just seemed like a good way to draw their attention, not to mention zombies. Still, he kept his mouth shut and resigned himself to what was sure to be another anxious night of little sleep. He was just glad that Chris wasn’t a part of this particular mission.

When he woke up the day of the drive, the sun was shining through the hole in the ceiling, lighting up the store enough for him to know that Sam and Emily had already left. What was weird, though, was that the sleeping bag next to his was empty. Chris was gone. Maybe he’d already gotten up to get food or something. Josh went out into the main part of the store and saw Ashley sitting by a small fire, poking at what looked like beans in a dented pot she was holding over the flames.

“Morning!” she said brightly.

“Hey,” Josh said, distracted. “Where’s Chris?”

“Oh,” Ashley said, glancing around. “I assumed he was still sleeping. Is he not in there?”

“No,” Josh said. A fluttering panic was rapidly filling his chest. Images flashed in his mind’s eye of Chris stepping outside for some reason in the night and getting snatched up by a hunter, throat slit before he could so much as scream. Or maybe a zombie had crept up on him, jagged teeth tearing into his neck…  

“Josh? I’m sure it’s fine,” Ashley said, though she was looking a little concerned, too. She set down the pot and moved to stand beside him, placing a hesitant hand on his forearm.

At that moment, the back door opened, and Matt and Chris strolled in. They were chatting pleasantly as they entered the store, looking totally nonchalant. When they caught sight of Josh and Ashley both staring at them, the two men waved.

“Morning, guys,” Matt said. He set his gun down on the table by the door.

“Hi,” Chris said, smiling. His expression faltered when he noticed Josh’s face. “You okay, bro?”

“Where the hell were you,” Josh said, his voice low to keep it from shaking.

“I got up to see the girls off, and then I just tagged along with Matt for a perimeter check,” Chris said, shrugging.

“I had no idea where you were,” Josh said, and now the strain was clear in his words. “You can’t just — you should’ve told me.”

“Well, sorry,” Chris said, and he sounded almost _annoyed_ , of all things. “I didn’t realize I needed to get your permission before I do anything.”

“That’s not what I said!” Josh snapped. He could sense Ashley and Matt both watching the scene unfold with discomfort, and he sighed. “Can I talk to you in private, please?”

“Yeah, okay,” Chris said. They went into the employee lounge, Chris shutting the door behind the two of them. “What’s this really about, Josh?” he said when they were alone.

“It’s about what I said! It’s about me being fucking worried!” Josh exclaimed.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care so much?”

Josh’s teeth ground together from clenching his jaw so tight. He’d worked so hard to suppress his feelings for Chris, to protect himself from the pain that came with loving someone in this world, and it hadn’t helped at all. All it had done was make Chris believe it, while Josh still felt so much it made his chest ache. But then he saw the challenge in Chris’s eyes, and realized that Chris _knew_ how Josh really felt; he was just trying to get him to admit it.

“I just don’t get it,” Chris said after the silence had stretched too long. His voice had lost its edge. “Like, honestly, Josh. Did I do something to you?”

“I’m trying to protect you,” Josh said.

“Protect me from _what_?” Chris said, incredulous. “From having a best friend? From having someone I love and —”

“Don’t.” Josh glared at the wall behind Chris’s shoulder instead of looking him in the face. “You have no idea what it feels like to lose someone you care about. It’s devastating, Chris. It’s almost killing me. I can’t let that happen again. If I lost you… I can’t.”

“Jesus, is that really what this is?” Chris said, and to Josh’s surprise, his friend laughed. It was a short, humorless chuckle, but still. “First of all, fuck off. The twins were family to me too, and in case you forgot, I also had parents that disappeared during the outbreak. Don’t tell me I don’t know how painful it is.” He stepped closer, and it took all Josh had not to back up. “And second… I want you to look me in the eyes right now and tell me if pushing me away has made you feel any better. If I died tomorrow, would you really care less than if we’d been together?”

Josh flicked his gaze over so he was meeting Chris’s eyes. Neither of them said anything, just staring in silence.

And afterwards, Josh wouldn’t be able to say who moved first, but quite suddenly the two of them were kissing. Chris’s hands were fisted in Josh’s shirt, Josh cupping Chris’s face. Their movements were frantic and sloppy, and Josh found himself backed up against the table that Ashley had turned into a hospital cot. Chris slid one hand up to rest at the junction between Josh’s neck and shoulder, breath hot against Josh’s lips when he pulled away just a fraction.

“Listen to me,” Chris said quietly. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not losing me.”

“You can’t say that,” Josh replied, a bit breathless. “You don’t know.”

“Just trust me,” Chris said, ducking back in for a quick press of lips. “You and me, we’re getting out of this. We’re gonna come out the other side, when all of this is over and the world is back to normal. I promise.”

And Josh didn’t believe him, because he _couldn’t_ , but he kissed Chris like maybe he did. He let himself imagine for the first time in months that life could be better. That _he_ could be better, less afraid and full of pain and anger and hurt. Chris felt so right, pressed up against him, that he almost couldn’t believe he’d waited so long.

There was a knock on the door, and Matt’s voice drifted in. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sam and Emily are back. You’re gonna want to come out here.”

Josh and Chris glanced at the door, then back at each other. They both laughed slightly. Chris stepped back so that Josh was no longer pinned against the table. “Guess we should,” Chris said, hooking a thumb at the door.

“Yeah,” Josh said. He was still reeling a bit, and his heart was hammering with adrenaline, but he took a few slow breaths and smoothed out the collar of Chris’s shirt. “Can we… figure the rest of this out later?”

Chris’s brow creased with disappointment, but he nodded. “Of course.”

The two of them headed back out into the main part of the store. The rest of their group was gathered by the back door. Just outside, Josh could see the pickup truck. Stacked inside were blankets, jackets, hiking boots, and several lengths of rope. Emily and Sam stood in the doorway, looking accomplished. When they got close enough, Josh realized that Emily’s hand was idly brushing Sam’s wrist. He caught his friend’s eye, and she gave him a sheepish smile.

“We hit the fucking _jackpot_ ,” Emily was saying to Matt and Ashley. “There was so much left over, we couldn’t believe it.”

“And that’s not even the best part,” Sam added. “There’s another shop there that used to be some kind of gardening store, I think? Anyway, the plants have been growing on their own, and there’s _so_ much stuff in there. We saw at least two apple trees, and pumpkins too.”

“God, can you imagine having fresh food again?” Ashley said longingly. She peered out at the truck. “Why didn’t you bring any?”

“There was a lot of rubble that needed to be cleared away if we were going to transport the plants over here,” Sam explained. “Too much for just the two of us, and we wanted to hurry back. We were thinking some of us should do a second trip tomorrow, but maybe closer to evening. We heard some hunters doing an early morning patrol.”

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Chris offered.

“Me too,” Josh said quickly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, especially Chris. But if Chris was going into the danger zone, Josh was, too.

“Okay,” Emily said, clapping her hands together. “I think Matt should come with us too, and Sam and Ash can hold down the fort here. Sound good?”

Everyone agreed, and Sam and Matt started bringing in the supplies.

“What was it like out there? Did you run into any trouble?” Ashley asked.

Emily shook her head. “No, it was quiet besides the one patrol. And no zombies at all.”

“Hmm,” Ashley said. “That’s weird, right?”

“Maybe they’re like, migrating,” Matt offered. “It’s getting pretty cold at night. They’ve done that before.”

“Well either way, I’m not complaining,” Emily said. “I mean shit, after everything that’s happened in just the past few days, maybe the universe is cutting us a break.”

***

As Chris clambered into the bed of the truck next to Josh the next day, he realized that for the first time in years, he wasn’t afraid for his life. Emily was right — the universe was finally cutting them all a break. Matt and Emily sat in the cab, and as Emily turned the key she called over her shoulder, “Ready?”

“Let’s go!” Chris confirmed. The car rumbled to life, and Chris and Josh were jostled into each other. They exchanged glances and laughed slightly. Adrenaline was pumping through Chris, an eagerness for adventure that he’d never felt with the hunters. There was something nostalgic about riding in the bed of a truck; he had a distinct memory of being fifteen, piled into the back of Josh’s cousin’s pickup with Josh and the twins. They’d zoomed down the highway at dusk, and it had been terrifying and thrilling all at once. They’d ended up parking on a hill where they could see the stars stretched out on the inky canvas of the sky. Two months later, zombies appeared in the streets and the world as he knew it effectively ended.

He wondered if Josh remembered that night as well as he did. He would ask, but the street was full of potholes and the truck was rattling them around too much for conversation. Instead, he watched out of the corner of his eye the way Josh’s hair buffeted against his face, gaze heavy-lidded as he looked out at the Walgreens growing smaller and smaller behind them.

The gardening store was in much worse shape than Sam had made clear. The entire front of the shop was completely destroyed, and rubble covered the area for a good ten or so feet outwards. Emily swung the car around the back, where the walls were more intact and a large backdoor exit was dented in but still functional. From what Chris had seen of the interior before they’d turned around, there was a lot of plant life running wild in there.

Emily killed the engine and turned around, speaking out of the broken back window of the truck. “Okay, team, here’s the plan. We carry stuff out through the backdoor, as much as we can once we clear a path, and then we scoot on out of here before the sun sets. Everyone good with that? Alright, let’s move.” She opened her door and hopped out, and the other three followed suit.

When they tugged open the back door and stepped inside, Chris couldn’t help but gasp quietly. There was so much fresh, beautiful food — plants draped across the countertops and shelving, crisp red apples and wide orange pumpkins, patches of mint and herbs scattering the floor — it was something he hadn’t seen in five long years, and it was such a beautifully stark difference from years of dirty concrete and rusted cars and greying, rotted flesh that it nearly made him tear up.

“Pretty fucking good, right?” Emily said, beaming.

“Goddamn,” Matt said under his breath. He picked his way through the mess on the floor and went over to one of the apple trees, picking a piece of fruit and smelling it. He sighed dreamily and took a huge bite. “This is a billion times better than old cans of green beans and shit. Oh man.”

“Okay, don’t get carried away. We gotta load all of this up,” Emily said. They spread out, shifting piles of junk and overgrown plants to clear the way. This went on for a good fifteen minutes before they heard the noises.

Somewhere far off, but not far off enough, the stumbling and moaning of zombies. All four of them froze, heads cocked in the direction of the noise. About fifty yards away, a cluster of at least thirty zombies was approaching. They were still moving slowly, so they hadn’t spotted the group inside just yet, but it was only a matter of time. Without even discussing it, Matt, Emily, Chris, and Josh all scrambled to their knees, crawling forward to hide behind an overturned table. Matt dug around in his backpack and withdrew a pair of binoculars, poking over the top of the table and peering through the lenses at the zombie horde.

“Shit, there’s a lot of them,” he said quietly. “We should — we should go, right?”

“Lemme see,” Chris said. Matt handed him the binoculars, and Chris looked out at the creatures looming ever closer. A lot of them looked like they had been turned for years, skin mottled and covered in open sores, while a few still looked fresh and more humanlike. His eyes flitted over the various faces, feeling a mixture of horror and sympathy at their gruesome visages.

And then his eyes stopped on one face in particular. A young woman, one of the recently turned, with ratty, knotted black hair and wide, glassed-over brown eyes.

“Oh no,” Chris breathed before he could stop himself.

“What?” Josh asked. Chris looked at him, unable to hide the pain and pity in his eyes. Josh’s tone became more urgent. “Damn it, Chris, what?” Before Chris could reply, Josh had yanked the binoculars from his grasp and was looking through them. Chris could see the exact moment that Josh made the connection; his shoulders stiffened like he’d been paralyzed, and then, to Chris’s horror, he said in far too loud a voice, “Hannah?”

The zombies lifted their heads. They stood stock still. All eyes locked onto the broken storefront.

They charged.

“Get back to the car!” Emily shouted, jumping to her feet and yanking Matt to his feet as well. The four of them stumbled and tripped over the wreckage, and in what seemed like moments the zombies had started pouring into the store. They were also hampered by the rubble on the floor, but it didn’t bother them like it did uninfected people. Chris scrambled desperately, drowning in memories of zombies pinning him down and breathing putrid air against his throat. He felt a gnarled hand clutch at his shoulder but he threw an elbow back, jabbing the monster sharply in the chest, and was able to get free. He slammed open the back door and saw that Emily had just reached the car. She turned back to look at him when she heard the door open, and her gun was already raised when she realized it was him.

“Come on, move your ass!” she yelled. He rushed forward, clambering into the passenger seat while she took the wheel. She fumbled for the keys in the ignition, and Chris grabbed her hand, stopping her. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“What are _you_ doing, we have to wait for Matt and Josh!” Chris said.

Emily’s expression hardened. “There’s no time,” she told him.

He gaped at her. “Bullshit.” He shoved her hand and yanked the keys out of the ignition, clenching them in his fist. Emily was enraged.

“You’re going to get us killed,” she snapped. “You think I want to do this? Either we leave now or we _all_ die, and then Ashley and Sam are left alone. Is that what you want?”

Chris squeezed the keys so tightly that he felt them cut into his palm. “I’m not leaving without Josh.”

Just then, the back door slammed open again, and Josh came bolting out. His gun was drawn, and he looked disheveled and sweaty, eyes wild with fear. He jumped into the bed of the truck and banged his hand against the side. “They’re right behind me, go!”

Quick as a flash, Emily twisted Chris’s wrist painfully and got the keys from him, starting the car before he could protest. As she floored the gas pedal, zombies poured of the open door and ran after them. Matt was nowhere to be seen.

It took a good ten minutes of driving before the zombie mob fell behind, trailing off in the dust. Even then, Emily hardly slowed down. Chris was finally able to tear his eyes away from the road behind them and turned to look at her. Her grip on the steering wheel was knuckle-white, and tears were streaming down her face. She wasn’t making a sound, brow furrowed and mouth a thin, angry line.

“Emily,” he began, voice wavering with uncertainty. “I’m so sorry —”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, eyes never leaving the road. “You don’t get to tell me you’re sorry. You still have your best friend.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. The sun was nearly completely set by the time they got back to the Walgreens and Emily cut the engine. The back door of the store popped open and Ashley and Sam came out, both looking excited. Their expressions fell when they saw the empty truck bed and realized the party was one person short.

As the trio climbed out of the truck, Ashley hurried forward. “What happened? Where’s Matt?”

No one said anything for a moment. Emily’s eyes were locked on the ground, tears still dripping down her nose. Chris took a deep breath. “There were a bunch of zombies, they were right on top of us. Matt… he didn’t make it out.”

Ashley clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes widening with horror, and Sam was quick to wrap her arms around Emily’s shoulders, leading her back into the store. Chris, Ashley, and Josh followed, though Chris noticed that Josh was lagging behind. His expression was hard to discern, but he looked both pained and guilty.

Sam helped Emily to sit down on one of the chairs surrounding the fire pit. Ashley sat down in the chair next to her. “So the zombies just came out of nowhere? Crap, you guys are lucky to be alive. How did you get out?”

“We bolted,” Emily said. Her voice was hollow and empty. “And we… there wasn’t time! The zombies were about to climb into the fucking truck, I had to drive!”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “God, Em, I’m so sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I need — we need to set up the schedule for tonight. It’s practically dark, and there might be more of those fuckers lurking around.”

“Chris and I can take first watch,” Josh said quickly. Chris was a bit taken aback by this, as Josh never actively volunteered to do watch, but he agreed. Emily certainly shouldn’t be on watch duty, and Ashley and Sam were probably better equipped to comfort her than he or Josh would be. Emily nodded, waving them off. After a moment’s hesitation, Chris headed for the back door. He looked over to Josh expectantly.

“You coming?” he said. Josh nodded.

“You go, I’ll be there in a second,” he said. He still had that weird look on his face. Chris bit his lip, worried, but went outside all the same.

He stood in the near-dark of dusk for a few seconds, getting his bearings, and then he drew his gun and leaned against the back wall of the Walgreens to wait. Josh came out at last, rubbing at his forearm.

“Hey,” Chris said. “You, um, holding up okay?”

“I dunno,” Josh said distractedly. He looked around, as if worried about being overheard, and then said in a low voice, “I need your help.”

Chris frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Will you promise to help me no matter what it is?” Josh asked. He looked like he might cry.

“Of course, anything,” Chris said. “I’m kind of freaking out, dude, what is it?”

Wordlessly, Josh pushed up the sleeve on his right arm. There, in the middle of his forearm, the perfect crescent shape of a bite mark was pressed into the flesh. The area around it was dark and bruising, blood smearing from the tooth-shaped holes.

Chris took a step back. His hand shook as he pointed to the mark and said, “What the hell is that.”

“Come on, man, you know what it is,” Josh said. He was trembling, and he pressed his left hand to his mouth, dragging it down his face and exhaling hard. “It was bound to happen eventually, right?”

“I — no, this isn’t — this can’t —” Chris ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end, and he couldn’t stop staring at the bite in Josh’s arm. The perfect impressions of teeth, the breaks in the skin where blood had filled the small divots. His stomach twisted into knots the longer he looked.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Josh said, a note of urgency in his voice. “I — I would’ve done it myself, but I got scared.” He was reaching for Chris’s hand, the one that still clutched the pistol, and Chris’s blood turned to ice.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“I can’t — I can’t become one of those _things_ ,” Josh hissed, gesturing out into the darkness beyond. “I won’t. Please, Chris. You promised me.” He tapped a finger lightly against the space between his eyes. “Right here, remember? Quick and easy.”

“Fuck you,” Chris said, taking another step back. “I’m not shooting you in the goddamn skull, Josh.”

“You promised —”

“Yeah, when I was sixteen years old,” Chris exclaimed. “I was a kid, I was talking out of my ass. This is different, Josh. This is real. You can’t ask me to do this.”

“Chris,” Josh said, and his voice was broken and pleading. He pawed at the wound on his arm, like he wanted to tear the flesh from the bone. “I’m so fucking scared, Chris.”

They stood, three feet apart. Chris felt tremors coursing from his shoulder to his fingertips, and quite suddenly he understood: _this_ is what Josh was so afraid of. He tried to imagine shooting his best friend in the skull, saving him from a fate he feared so much. Chris felt like the earth had been pulled out from under him, his stomach in a continuous free-fall. But god, he was selfish, and he knew it. He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Josh. I can’t do it.”

Josh crumpled, whatever resolve he’d had melting away. His knees hit the dirt, and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, a broken sob cracking through his ribs. Chris knelt at his side, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close.

“What am I going to do?” Josh whispered.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Chris told him. “I’ll help you, we’ll… we’ll think of something.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, Chris,” Josh said. “I got bit, I’m going to turn. End of fucking story.”

“No, no, there’s gotta be something,” Chris said. “Maybe — well, um, I’ve heard of people cutting off wherever they got bit, and it stops the virus from spreading sometimes?”

Josh flinched. “You’re gonna hack my arm off?”

“It’s just an idea,” Chris said quickly. “Wait, no, I know. Remember when we heard that some people had been, like, treating the symptoms with panic and anxiety medication? Because it stifles the rage in the brain or whatever. That could work, right?”

“I… maybe,” Josh said, taking a shaky breath and letting it out in a slow _woosh_. “But it’s not a cure, Chris. We can delay it all we want, but I’m still gonna turn.”

“We’ll figure that out, too,” Chris insisted, though he had no fucking clue how they’d cross that bridge. At least Josh wasn’t begging him to shoot him in the head anymore. “I’m not going to give up on you, you hear me?”

Josh nodded, but he sounded small and weary when he spoke. “Yeah. Okay. I trust you.”

Chris pressed a hard kiss to the side of Josh’s head, holding him tighter. The darkness around them felt like a blanket, covering them from the truth of what waited on the edges of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i can say is 1. unless it's explicitly shown/stated, nothing is set in stone, and 2. read the fic tags. don't freak out. i love u all. 
> 
> next chapter will beeeeee sometime. soon i hope. thanks for sticking around!!!! <333


	9. consumed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's all downhill from here. 
> 
> (chapter title based on [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDRpl79Xyh0&ab_channel=Lamor) from the last of us ost, which felt like an appropriate Mood for this chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps mic* is this thing on? 
> 
> HEYYYYY sorry it's been like, approximately 1000 years since this updated!! sheesh!! life got in the way and also i kinda wrote a novel in the past 5 months soooo i've been busy. but! i have not abandoned this fic! she's back and full of good ol' drama. this is also the first chapter to have a flashback and present day, so i hope that's not too jarring.  
> i appreciate your patience as i get my shit together and i will try very hard to get the next chapter up within the next month. 
> 
> WARNINGS: some graphic/violent/gory imagery and descriptions.

_TWO DAYS POST-OUTBREAK_

 

Chris wasn’t a short kid, even for fifteen. He hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but he’d always been kind of gangly. It was a rare situation where he’d say he felt small. But as he weaved between hastily assembled tents and huddled groups of anxious people, he felt very, very small. The safety zone had appeared seemingly overnight, set up in a parking lot across the street from a movie theater Chris had gone to once with his parents. It was pretty far from the Washingtons’ house, where Chris and his friends had been picked up by men and women in uniform and a military jeep. They’d seen a few more of those people, the ones with gnashing teeth and glossy, blown-out pupils. But so far here, in the big fenced-in area guarded by trucks and people with guns, everyone seemed normal.

He was heading for the front check-in tent, where a line of people waited to read through the Connections List. One of the soldiers had told them about it last night when they’d arrived. It was where you could put down the names of your missing family members so that if they checked into the safety zone, they’d be able to find you. Luckily for Chris, the line was pretty short right now. He stepped into place behind a woman who was around his mother’s age and holding a fussy toddler. He waved tentatively at the baby, who took one look at him and wailed. Chris quickly looked away. So much for that.

The line moved agonizingly slowly, and eventually a couple people queued up behind Chris. They were talking in low but fervent voices, and he couldn’t help but overhear.

“I’m telling you, the military scientists did it,” one of them said. “I’ll bet you anything it was some kinda biological warfare experiment that got out of hand. Mutated rabies or something.”

“That’s stupid,” the other one said. “This isn’t a fuckin’ movie, it’s real life. You and your stupid conspiracies.”

The line moved forward. Chris tilted his head ever so slightly towards the people behind him.

“I heard someone in here was infected,” the first person said breezily. “They took him away this morning. He’s in the medical tent, all foaming at the mouth and thrashing around. Bet you anything we’ll all be infected within the hour.”

Chris stiffened at that, and he decided he didn’t want to hear what the two strangers had to say anymore. The woman with the baby finished looking through the Connections List — looking rather morose as she left — and Chris stepped up to the table, flipping through the pages. He opened it to “H” first, eyes slowly trailing each name, but he didn’t see “Hartley” anywhere. Stomach sinking, he turned the pages til he got to “G,” but Sam’s parents weren’t on the list either. Then he flipped all the way back to “W.” Bob and Melinda Washington were absent as well. He pulled out three of the index cards next to the list and filled them out for himself and his friends, handing them to the soldier on the other side of the table. She filed them away in her stack to add to the lists later.

On his way back to the tent he and his friends had been placed in, Chris spotted the medical tent across the way. Curiosity, twisting sickly in his stomach, made him pause. Sighing to himself, he cut through the crowd and made his way to the tent. He could hear someone whimpering inside, and a few quiet voices speaking indiscernible words. As casually as he could, he walked past the open front of the tent and peered inside. Someone was sitting on a cot and nursing an arm in a sling, and a man with gloves on and a stethoscope on his neck was talking to a woman with gauze taped to her bruised forehead. There was nobody foaming at the mouth, and certainly nobody who looked like the frightening people who’d chased Chris and his friends the day before. Huffing in relief, he changed his course so he was heading back to his tent. No one was infected. As long as they all stayed in the safety zone, they would be okay.

Anyway, he thought to himself, the military would probably have this solved in no time, and everything could go back to normal.

***

_PRESENT DAY_

 

Josh was a zombie. He knew it, and he knew that Chris knew it, but neither of them was acknowledging it. Just over a week since he’d been bitten, and his body was cycling between shivery and feverish, and there was a sharp, violent urge constantly squeezing his brain the likes of which he’d never experienced before. He felt dull, like his nerve endings had started to grow numb. To top it all off, his thoughts were jumbled, memories harder to grasp. All he really wanted to do was tear something — or someone — apart.

The only thing keeping him from going full aggro and killing everyone around him was a steady and heavy dose of whatever sedatives Chris could sneak from the pharmacy section without anyone noticing. It helped that Sam was sleeping in Emily’s bedspace now, so Chris and Josh had theirs to themselves. The problem was, the meds weren’t slowing the spread of the infection, or reversing any of Josh’s symptoms. He’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror the other day, and he had a worrying grey pallor about him. His pupils were dilated, and his muscles jumped under his skin.

He looked, in other words, like a freshly turned zombie. Whenever he caught Chris watching him with concern, he wanted to rip his best friend’s head off. But the sedatives were a thick blanket over his violent urges, one that he couldn’t quite push off enough to act on anything.

“Are you okay, Josh?” Ashley asked him as she passed where was sitting by the fire pit and mentally wading through a fog of meds and boiling rage.

Chris, from Josh’s side, piped up, “He’s coming down with something. I think it’s the flu. Best keep your distance.”

“Oh, jeez,” Ashley said, wrinkling her nose. “That sucks, sorry, Josh!”

He narrowed his eyes at her. He imagined biting her throat out. She didn’t seem to pick up on it, and wandered away. Josh could feel Chris’s gaze on him, and Josh hated him for it.

 

In the days since the disastrous attack at the gardening store, zombies had been roaming the streets more often than they had in months. It forced the group to spend most of their time indoors, listening to the moans and gurgles of the infected people right outside their door. Emily and Sam’s murmured conversation about barricading themselves inside for the winter was interrupted one morning by a clatter from outside, and a clanging rattle came from the back of the Walgreens.

“What was that?” Ashley asked, her voice pitched higher with fear.

“Someone’s messing with the truck,” Emily said, eyes narrowing. The five of them watched the back door in tense silence for a long moment, but the clanging had stopped and there were no other noises.

“I’m gonna go check it out,” Sam said at last, crossing the room to the weapons table and grabbing a gun. The others followed, Josh bringing up the rear at a stumble. Sam reached the back door, grasping handle. She let out a long, slow breath, puffing up the stray hairs that hung in front of her face. Then she flung the door open and stepped out, gun drawn. The area out back was empty except for the truck, at least as far as they all could see from the doorway. Sam took another step, pivoting slowly and aiming the gun in front of her.

Unfortunately for her, the attack came from behind.

A zombie lurched around the corner, what had once been a man so tall and bulking that it was a full head taller than Sam. Its arms locked around her in an iron-tight embrace, skin mottled and oozing, the fetid stench of its breath strong enough that even Josh could smell it. Sam screamed. Ashley and Chris screamed. Emily was already drawing her gun, trying to aim at the zombie’s thrashing head in a way that didn’t put Sam at risk of being shot instead. Josh watched the zombie’s teeth gnash above Sam’s scalp and felt a horrible instinctive wrench of desire in his stomach.

And then the zombie stopped thrashing and growling, because something had just burst through its head. What appeared to be a length of steel rebar smashed directly through the zombie’s forehead from behind, raining blood down on Sam, who let out another shriek of disgust and terror. The zombie’s arms went limp, releasing Sam, and she darted away from it just as the rebar was yanked back out and the body fell, lifeless, to the dirt. Behind it, holding the bloody rebar in one hand, was Mike.

Everyone stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. He looked awful — dirty and scraped up, a black eye blossoming that was followed by a series of cuts along his cheek and throat.

Finally, Sam spoke. “Thanks for that,” she said, a little shaky. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “Holy shit.” He looked at the rest of them as if just realizing they were all standing there. He raised a hand in an almost sheepish wave. “Hey guys.”

His eyes locked on Emily, who was standing there like she was in shock. Mike’s face dropped into a nervous, shifty expression. Emily marched right up to him and he cringed a little before she flung her arms around him in a fierce hug that he hesitantly returned, dropping the rebar to the dirt.

“Welcome back, dumbass,” she said, and she sounded almost choked up. “What the hell took you so long?” She paused, drawing back to look around. What she was piecing together had started to sink in for everyone else, too. “Where’s Jess?”

Mike shook his head, face pinching. Everyone held a collective breath that was filled with dread. “We were going to come back,” Mike said, his voice soft. “After a day or so, we were making our way back over and… this hoard just came out of nowhere. There were so many of them, we were fighting for our lives — when I got away, I-I couldn’t see her anymore. I lost her. I lost Jess.” He swallowed roughly, throat bobbing. “I’ve been trying to search for her, but alone it’s not easy. There’s _fucking_ zombies everywhere.”

“God,” Sam said, closing her eyes. “I can’t believe… that’s so awful.”

“These goddamn hoards,” Emily said tightly. “Bet you it was the same group that got Matt.”

“Matt?” Mike repeated. “Don’t tell me he’s —” he broke off at the look on Emily’s face. “Damn it!” he exclaimed. “I swear to god, I’d kill every one of those infected bastards if I could. With my bare goddamn hands.” Emily hugged him again, Sam placing a comforting hand on the other girl’s back.

Chris glanced behind him at Josh. Through his haze, Josh could see the worry on Chris’s face, but it was different this time. And the fragment of Josh’s mind that was still his own knew why. Josh remembered feeling the way Mike felt, shortly after his sisters had been lost to the zombie attack. He would’ve destroyed any zombie in his path without hesitation. Josh stared down at his shaky, greying hands and felt fear pool in his stomach, chilling him to his bones.  

***

It wasn’t that Chris wasn’t happy to see Mike again, because in any other circumstance he’d honestly be relieved. He was glad the other man hadn’t been killed, and it was always a comfort to have another capable person in their group, but….

But. Mike was stewing with a grief-stricken anger that Chris had seen many times before, in a dozen other survivors trying to reckon with losing someone you care about. It was slightly reassuring to see that Mike cared so much about Jessica — she deserved someone like that, Chris thought. Whether or not she was still around to appreciate it, well, Chris didn’t want to think about that too hard. Unfortunately, he had more pressing concerns than his friend’s whereabouts.

Like the fact that Josh was getting worse by the day, and Mike’s desire for vengeance over what happened to Jess was boiling to the surface. Chris tried to be as subtle as possible, shuffling through cold medicine or bandages on some pretense while he pilfered more sedatives. He was walking back to the bedspace he shared with Josh when Sam stopped him, stepping into his path with her arms crossed, mouth a thin line.

“Um, hey Sam,” he said, juggling the bottles in his hands and surreptitiously hiding the label of the Xanax. “What’s up?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked. Her voice was low, sharp, and Chris frowned at her. “Chris, I _know_ , okay?” she said.

Chris’s blood froze in his veins. He opened his mouth wordlessly, scrambling for an explanation, some lie that would convince her, but Sam wasn’t an idiot. Anything he said, she’d see right through it.

“I know you think you’re helping him,” Sam continued. “And I’m sure he’s told you this is what he needs, but… Chris, you and I both know this can only end badly. Honestly, I thought you’d be on my side with this.”

Okay, what? Careful to keep his voice steady, he said, “What are you talking about?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I know you’re giving Josh extra Xanax. I know things have been… really hard around here recently, and I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like at the gardening store. I know he’s struggling to cope with it, Chris, but he looks awful lately. We have to him get _off_ these meds, not give him more.”

Chris sighed, the panic that had momentarily filled him giving way to exasperation. “Sam, I appreciate what you’re saying, I really do. But I know Josh. I know what he needs, okay? You don’t —”

“I don’t what?” she interrupted. “I don’t know him? Bullshit. The past few months he talked to me more than he talked to you. He’s one of my best friends too. I know him, Chris. Now give me those pills.” She held out her hand, and her eyes were fierce. She wasn’t going to back down.

“Sam…”

“The pills, Chris.”

They stared each other down. Chris could sense this wasn’t a fight he would win, not now. He was pretty sure Josh still had a few pills to tide him over until Chris could find a sneakier way to get more. Reluctantly, he placed the Xanax bottle in Sam’s hand. She tucked it into her pocket and nodded.

“I don’t want to seem like an asshole,” she said, her voice gentler now. “I love Josh. I just want him to be okay, you know?”

“I know,” Chris said, and his shoulders slumped. “Believe me, so do I.”

 

It was only a couple of hours later when Josh approached Chris, looking worse than usual. He was sweating, bloodshot eyes darting from side to side. “I need more,” he said in a rough, thready whisper. “I’m all out, the last dose is wearing off.”

“Shit,” Chris muttered. He looked around; they were right in the middle of the store, in plain sight of the rest of their group. More specifically, Sam was standing right there, and it would be impossible to avoid her attention if he tried slipping into the pharmacy now.

“Chris,” Josh said, an urgency to his voice. There was something else there, too, a growl in his words that made Chris feel a little nauseous.

“Hold on,” he said, and started to casually walk in the direction of the pharmacy, meandering as he did so. When he glanced over at Sam, she was watching him. Their eyes met, and she shook her head. _Shit_.

He hardly had time to start really worrying when a sick, guttural sound came from behind him and as he turned he was body-slammed by Josh. Josh, whose eyes were practically black from his pupils blown wide, face twisted in a hateful sneer, hands rough and hot as they shoved Chris onto his back. Scrambling, Chris wedged his arm up and pushed against Josh’s chest, holding him back enough so that his friend’s teeth couldn’t plunge into Chris’s neck.

Around him, he could hear exclamations of shock and fear. He tried to focus only on Josh. There were these terrible snarls coming from Josh’s lips, familiar in the worst way. He snapped his teeth, breath hot. Chris had a sudden flashback to Josh’s lips pressed against his, warm breath on his neck. It was a tenderness so starkly different from the blind rage now that it made Chris’s head spin.

Focus. It was still Josh, under the virus and the rage. He pressed harder against Josh’s chest with his hand. “Josh,” he said, his voice surprising in its calmness. “Dude, stop, this isn’t you. Come on, man, fight it! Snap out of it!”

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” Emily’s voice came from somewhere to their left. Chris kept looking into Josh’s glassy eyes, searching desperately for the humanity he knew was still in there.

“Josh, it’s me. You don’t want to hurt me,” Chris said, and his arm was starting to shake from the weight of Josh’s torso, elbow ready to buckle. “Please,” he said.

Josh stilled. He panted, body poised above Chris’s for a moment before he slumped to one side, the twitching tension giving way as he curled in on himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Chris sat up, placing a tentative hand on Josh’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Ho-lee shit,” Mike said. Chris looked up and saw that the others had gathered around, and they were all staring at Josh with a dawning horror. Mike pointed to him. “He’s a fucking zombie, isn’t he?”

“Listen,” Chris said urgently. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s okay. He just needs some sedatives and —”

“He’s been infected this whole time?” Ashley interrupted. “Since the gardening store? And you didn’t tell us?”

“I — I didn’t want you to hurt him,” Chris said. Josh said nothing. He was still curled in on himself, and was now shaking slightly.

“You’ve endangered every single person in here,” Mike said, and there was a coldness in his eyes that made Chris’s heart pound against his ribs. “We all could’ve been killed because of that — that _thing_!”

“He’s not a _thing_ ,” Chris said angrily. “He’s just sick, but he’s still…” he trailed off, because Josh was starting to get to his feet. Everyone else backed up, and Mike reached into his waistband to pull out a pistol. Chris jumped up, holding out his hands. “Whoa, hey, put that down!”

“That is not Josh anymore, Chris,” Mike said, pointing the gun at Josh, who just stood there staring at him. “He almost ripped your throat out just now.”

“You are not shooting him,” Chris said. He turned to Sam, imploring. “Sam, come on, you aren’t buying into this, are you?”

She was staring at him with hurt in her eyes. “I can’t believe you would do something like this,” she said, shaking her head.

Chris was starting to feel trapped, Josh trembling and silent beside him. “Everyone needs to calm down so we can talk about this,” he said.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Mike said. “Now get out of the way before you get hurt.”

In that tense moment, Chris scanned the faces of his companions, searching for an ally in this fight. Ashley looked terrified. Emily looked furious. Sam just looked heartbroken. Mike’s finger slid to the trigger. Chris grabbed Josh to yank him out of the way, mouth opening to shout another protest, but his words died on his tongue as the _crack_ of the gunshot rang out in the room.

At first, there was silence, and then he heard Ashley shriek. Something was burning, the flesh of his upper thigh was surely on fire — he looked down, and saw quite a lot of blood flowing from left leg. He could feel the bullet hot in the flesh of his thigh, and the room started spinning. He felt his legs buckling under him, and when his knees hit the ground the pain that shot up into the gunshot wound made his vision go white. He felt someone’s hands, hot and rough, grasping his arm. Josh’s voice, thick and wavering, saying his name. Then Chris fainted, and he heard nothing but the hollow ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoinks scoob


	10. a choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions have consequences, after all. 
> 
> (title based off [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYUErkvORWA&ab_channel=Svykio) from the last of us ost, because it fits the mood and i listen to this ost so much when i'm writing this fic lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends! sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than they've been recently, but hopefully the fact that it didn't take me approximately half a year to write will make up for it, haha. (also, i know there's been a few chris-centric chapters recently but i promise there's more josh pov to come!!)
> 
> WARNINGS: vaguely graphic descriptions of gunshot wounds
> 
> PSA, i've tried to do some research as far as injuries, infection, gunshot wounds specifically, etc in order to make this fic at least somewhat realistic, but honestly i'm not a medical professional so pls suspend your disbelief somewhat if things aren't exactly accurate lmao we're all having fun here

Chris woke to pain. Voices, loud and frantic, mixed together so that he couldn’t separate them at first. Ashley, she was shouting something about _shattered_ and _splint_ and _keep pressure on it_ and he felt sick. Blinking against the dizziness, he lifted his head slightly. He was in the Walgreens break room, on the table-turned-hospital-cot. His left leg had been elevated, and Sam was there, pressing against a spot in his upper thigh. There was blood on her hands, blood running down his leg. The entire left leg of his jeans had been haphazardly ripped open, exposing his flesh and the wound.

He’d seen people bleeding before, seen people with gunshot wounds and stab wounds and gaping holes torn in their flesh by zombie teeth, but this was different. He’d never seen his _own_ blood gushing out of him, not this much of it. He didn’t even think there was that much blood in one leg. It hurt like hell, and when Ashley came into view holding an armful of towels, duct tape, and what looked like a sawed-off broom handle, he remembered her saying something about _shattered_. His body felt both cold and hot.

Ashley saw that he was awake, and she dumped the materials onto the bed beside him and reached over the brush a hand across his forehead. “It’s going to be okay, Chris,” she said, though her voice was shaking and so was her hand against his skin. “You’re going to be okay, don’t cry.”

He hadn’t even realized he was crying. He closed his eyes, head falling back against the table, and his face contorted in pain.

“Mike!” Ashley shouted. “Get me something strong from the pharmacy!”

Mike said something, but Chris barely heard it, because everything was starting to get spotty and his stomach roiled with nausea. He spoke, not even hearing himself before he lost consciousness again. “Where’s Josh?”

***

Josh was cold. It was dim, and his vision was already bad so he might as well have been sitting at the bottom of a fucking well. He was actually sitting in the locked employee bathroom of the Walgreens. It was a tiny room, with a toilet and sink that no longer worked and a discolored rectangle on the wall where the mirror used to hang.

It was thanks to Sam that he was even still alive. In the scramble after Chris passed out, she’d shoved a bottle of Xanax in his hand, her eyes hard with hurt. While Ashley and Mike carried Chris into the break room, Sam and Emily had lugged Josh into the bathroom.

“What’re you gonna do to me?” he asked, wide-eyed as Sam started to shut the door.

She ran a hand over her face. “I don’t know yet. Just… stay here.” And then the door was shut and locked and he was alone.

He’d always hated the dark, even before the outbreak. It scared him more than it should’ve scared someone who wasn’t a little kid. At sixteen he’d still had a night light, though the only people who knew about it were his sisters and Chris. It had helped keep the fears at bay, unbidden images of monsters chased into the corners by a tiny beacon of light.

Now, there were no beacons shining in the dark. There was only the monster — only Josh.

He had already dry-swallowed some pills, and the violent urges were muffled once more. The tiny part of Josh that was still Josh was terrified, and even if he wasn’t sluggish from the drugs, he would’ve been too scared to move from his spot in the furthest corner of the room. Knees hugged to chest, Josh sat and waited.

There was blood on his clothes. Not his own, but Chris’s. Chris had tried to protect him, had literally taken a bullet for him even though Josh had almost killed him. Josh’s eyes stung, and he pressed his forehead to his knees. “God,” he choked out.

There was a _creak_ , and Josh lifted his head as a stripe of light cut into the dark of the room from the doorway. Josh narrowed his eyes at the figure stepping into the light and saw that it was Mike. He was still holding a gun, but it was dangling loosely at his side. Josh still didn’t trust him.

“What do you want?” he rasped, pressing closer to the wall. “Gonna shoot me now?”

“No,” Mike said. He sounded stiff, uncomfortable, like the very idea that he was speaking to a zombie was making him uneasy. Distantly, Josh couldn’t blame him. “Not necessarily.”

“Okay.” Josh swallowed. “How’s… how’s Chris?”

“He’ll live,” Mike said. He didn’t sound too sure. “No thanks to you.”

“Hey fuck you, you’re the one that shot him,” Josh snapped. He imagined tearing Mike to pieces. His heart hammered.

Mike glared at him. “Shut up and listen to me.” He glanced behind him for a moment before speaking again, lowering his voice. “I’m gonna give you a choice here, man. I could shoot you. Or you can leave.”

“Leave?” Josh repeated.

“That’s right. Get out of here and don’t come back. If Chris is right, and there’s even a shred of humanity left in you, then you’ll know the kindest thing you can do for everyone here is leave before you hurt someone else.”

Josh let Mike’s words settle over him. He’d known all along that he was only getting worse, and in the nearly two weeks since he’d been bitten, he and Chris hadn’t come up with anything close to a real solution. It was only a matter of time before Josh missed another dose of pills, or ran out entirely, and turned ravenous and furious on his friends.

“Okay,” he said quietly, and he looked up at Mike. “I’ll leave.”

Mike looked like he wasn’t expecting Josh to actually say that, and a mixture of relief and confusion flashed across his face before the anger was back, and he opened the door a little wider. “Good. Um, just go, I guess.”

Josh stumbled to his feet, not missing the way Mike’s grip tightened on the gun. “I wanna say goodbye to Chris first,” Josh said. Mike shook his head.

“No way I’m letting you in there right now, it’s chaos,” he said. And then, coldly, he added, “Don’t you think you’ve hurt him enough?”

Josh thought of the months he’d pushed Chris away. How he’d begged Chris to kill him. How he’d almost ripped Chris’s throat out. Chris’s blood covering Josh’s clothes because Josh had gotten Chris wrapped up in this, when Josh could have — _should_ have — left before it went this far.

He wrapped his arms around his middle and pushed past Mike without another word. He was actually relieved that the Xanax was numbing his feelings now, because otherwise he wasn’t sure he would have been able to walk out the door. But he did. He heard the shouts of the others from the break room, and he couldn’t hear Chris’s voice among them. He staggered to the back door, pushing it open and stepping out into the dirt. Dried blood from the zombie Mike had killed a few days ago still stained the ground. Josh felt the bottle of pills Sam had given him in his pocket. There was enough in there to last a few more days, at least. And then….

And then he would be lost, irrevocably and permanently. No more Josh Washington. Memories of his parents, his sisters, his life before the world fell apart, they would be lost too. Why the fuck hadn’t he ever thought to write anything down? Chris and Sam, though — they would remember. That would have to be enough.

Josh walked away. He didn’t look back. But god, he wanted to.

***

Whatever they’d been giving Chris, it was strong. He felt like he was experiencing everything in snapshots, lucidity coming in brief moments of separation. The first time he came to again, The room was darker and his leg was in a splint. His jeans were completely gone, but there was a blanket tucked around most of him. The blood was cleaned up now, too, though he could still smell the coppery tang of it in the air. His face felt sticky with dried tears and sweat, and someone had removed his glasses. He was alone.

The next time he woke up, Ashley was there. It was still dark, but there were a few candles lit, so he could make her out as she stood over him, wiping off his face with a damp cloth.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered. Instead of replying, Chris fell back asleep.

He woke up again, and the candles were still flickering. Sitting together on the floor were Emily and Sam, speaking in low voices. They were holding hands. Sam put her head on Emily’s shoulder, and Emily brushed a comforting hand through Sam’s hair.

It was light out when Chris woke again, and his leg was throbbing. Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, nodding off. He felt dizzy and groggy, but not like he was about to pass out again, so he croaked, “Sam?”

She startled, almost falling off the bed, and then looked at him with a surprised smile. “Hey, you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he said, trying to sit up and immediately wincing. “My head feels funny.”

“Yeah, we had to give you some pretty powerful sleeping pills,” Sam said. “There’s not much in the way of strong pain medicine, so we just kind of knocked you out. How’s your leg?”

“Hurts,” Chris said, huffing out a long breath. Then his eyes widened. “Where’s Josh?”

Sam’s expression faltered, and Chris felt his stomach swoop horribly. “He’s… um, he’s gone, Chris. He left.”

Chris stared at her. “What do you mean, he left? Why would he leave? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know, he just left,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Last night. I didn’t even see him go. I’m sorry, Chris.”

He was shaking his head, trying to sit up again even though it hurt. “No. That’s bullshit. You’re lying to me.” A horrible thought entered his mind. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Mike shot him.”

“Chris, no —” Sam began. The door to the break room opened, and Mike came in, Ashley at his heels.

“Oh, he’s up!” Mike said brightly.

Chris saw red. “You fucking asshole,” he said, and then he was throwing back the covers. “You killed Josh, didn’t you? You fucking killed him!”

“Whoa, what the fuck?” Mike said. Chris tried to get to his feet so he could charge at Mike, injured leg be damned, but as soon as he made to stand his leg buckled, and a wave of pain shot up from his thigh that made him shake, falling back against the bed.

“Chris!” Sam exclaimed. Mike was staring at him, alarmed. Ashley had rushed over to him and was helping Sam ease him back onto the bed.

“What are you trying to do, kill yourself?” she said, frowning at him. “You’re _very_ badly hurt, Chris. In the past 24 hours you’ve broken a bone, you probably have nerve damage, and you literally have a bullet embedded in your thigh. What are you thinking, trying to walk right now?”

“Dude, I didn’t — I didn’t kill Josh,” Mike said uneasily. “I swear to god, he walked out of here alive.”

There was a tense moment as Chris glared at all of them, and then he slumped back against the pillows. As far as he could tell, Mike was telling the truth. He still didn’t think he was getting the _full_ truth, though. Josh wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, at the very least. He just… he just wouldn’t.

“I’m really sorry I shot you, man,” Mike said. “Things got kinda out of hand back there.”

Huffing out a breath and keeping his eyes on the ceiling, Chris said, “You think?”

“Okay,” Ashley said pointedly. “Why don’t we all just give him some space.” She urged Mike and Sam out of the room. Mike left rather quickly, but Sam threw a reluctant look over her shoulder before she followed him out the door. Ashley left last, leaving the door open a bit and saying, “If you need anything just shout, alright?”

“Sure.” Chris waited until she was gone before pressing his hands to his face, sucking in a rattling breath that exhaled into a whimper. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

 

By the next day, his pain didn’t seem to be lessening; in fact, it was just growing, morphing into new kinds of pain. His leg radiated with it, hot and throbbing and achy. Mike hadn’t been in to visit him again, but Ashley came in regularly to check on him, help him hobble to the bathroom, and occasionally give him more pain medication. It was all over-the-counter, non-prescription stuff, so it wasn’t doing much, but he imagined the pain would probably be even worse without it.

When she came in to check on him that evening, she actually said something to him besides “how’s your pain?” or “do you need more water?” As she pulled back the blanket on his injured leg, she said quietly, “I’m sorry about Josh, Chris. I know how hard this must be for you.”

“Ashley,” he said, closing his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“I’m just saying —” she started, but he cut her off.

“I know what you’re saying,” he said. “But I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.”

She hesitated, and then sighed. “Okay.” Gently, she undid his bandages and looked over his wound. She had her body angled so he couldn’t really see his leg, so he just watched her face and tried to gauge her reaction. What he saw wasn’t exactly comforting — she winced, and her eyes were worried. When she caught him staring at her, she glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled thinly.

“It’s bad, right?” he asked.

Ashley shook her head too quickly. It looked dizzying. “No, no! It’s totally fine. It’s only been a couple days. These things take time.” She went about cleaning his wound, which always hurt like a bitch even though she was extremely gentle. After she’d wrapped his leg back up in fresh bandages, she side-eyed him.

“What?” he asked.

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out something. It was a small stack of cards. “I just thought… if you were up for it, maybe you’d wanna play Magic? Just to take your mind off things. If you want.”

Chris felt a surge of affection towards her. There were some people he’d met over the last five years — like Jessica, or even Matt — that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been friends with if they weren’t thrust together in these circumstances. But he could picture himself being friends with Ashley in the times Before, maybe being in the same nerdy clubs in high school or the same study groups in college. He thought that she probably felt the same way. He couldn’t really picture Ashley hanging out with Mike or Emily Before. And that made him realize that maybe Ashley was offering this game for herself as much as for him.

He smiled slightly, for the first time since he’d been shot. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Ashley beamed at him, and started shuffling through the cards to split them up. After she handed him his deck, she leaned forward to feel his forehead. Her expression faltered slightly.

“What’s up?” he asked. Her hand felt soft and cold against his sweaty forehead. It was kind of nice.

“Nothing,” she said. “You just have a little bit of a fever, I think.”

“Is that… bad?” Chris asked. He was trying to piece together what he knew about injuries and infections and symptoms, but honestly, he had a high school sophomore’s education and he’d spent most of health class laughing at the diagrams of dicks with Josh instead of paying attention.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Ashley said, sounding unsure. “We’ll just keep an eye on it.” Her expression cleared, though her eyes were still clouded with worry. “Anyway. You wanna go first?”

Chris agreed, but he didn’t really feel like playing anymore.


	11. roads to nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh walks. Chris gets worse. The gang makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three chapters in one month??? this is unheard of! we're ramping up to the parts of the fic that i've been planning since day one, so hopefully things will move faster from here on out! 
> 
> WARNINGS: animal death (not explicit/graphic)

Josh walked. He had no direction in mind — he just moved, weaving between buildings and down side streets. He encountered a few zombies along the way, but they paid him no mind, the way zombies always ignored their own kind. After the first few times it happened, his instinctive reaction of panic lessened, and he just moved past them, the mottled grey flesh and soft, gurgling grunts a reminder of his increasingly near future. 

His emotions were crowded in his head, all of them unpleasant. It felt like the Xanax had built a room in his brain that was safe from the rage of the infection, but the room was so small that he could barely fit inside. Josh didn’t want to think about what would happen when the part of him that was still him could no longer be protected from the infection eating away at his mind. 

After a couple of days, Josh realized he no longer knew where he was, or how to get back to the Walgreens. Not that he was going to go back. It was just strange, the finality of the severance. He had been making his way, almost subconsciously, in the direction of the gardening store where he’d been bitten. Some feeble part of him hoped that he would find Hannah there. At least that way, when he ran out of pills and fully turned, he wouldn’t be alone. Did zombies care about things like that? Somehow, he doubted it. 

On the morning of the third day, Josh woke up feeling like something was gnawing on the inside of his stomach. He’d taken shelter under the torn awning of an ice cream shop, the front window smashed to bits and the door wrenched from its hinges. As he sat up from his slumped position against the doorframe, he realized that he was hungry. No, scratch that — Josh was  _ starving _ . The hunger felt like the rage did, unnatural and overwhelming. The infection was spreading, despite the drugs’ efforts to keep it at bay. Eventually, doped up or not, the urges would be too strong to deny. He sat up, pressing his knuckles to his belly and massaging the ache there. He hadn’t been eating much in the two weeks after he’d been bitten, and in the past three days he’d had nothing at all. Maybe he could scrounge something up in the ice cream shop to stave off the hunger for now. 

Josh rose slowly and unsteadily to his feet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pill bottle, tilting it so the pills scattered inside. He had enough for maybe two days. Two days left of being a person, and he was about to go lick sour dregs of old ice cream from the containers like an animal. Josh huffed out a rattling breath, shoved the pills back in his pocket, and entered the store. 

It had been overturned long ago, and broken glass from the ice cream displays littered the floor, scuffed down to dull, opaque shards. Josh poked around in the displays anyway, but they were empty. Most of the ice cream containers had been removed, and the ones left held nothing but glass, spiderwebs, and mouse shit. He stared at the concoction for a long moment before deciding he hadn’t sunk quite that low yet. 

There was no food. Josh kicked a pile of debris on the ground, feeling dull and angry and  _ hungry _ . He left the store, determined to keep moving. He wanted to find Hannah before he lost himself. He wanted to be able to look at her one more time and recognize her. 

About half an hour after he’d left the ice cream shop, Josh heard something rustling in the shrubbery along the road. He froze, watching the branches shake, and then a small creature bounded onto the path, stopping to stand stock-still in front of him. It was a rabbit. The animal was small, a sort of greyish color, with big ears and a twitchy nose. It stared at Josh, not moving. Josh’s gut seized, like something horrible inside of it had grabbed onto the walls of his stomach and twisted it into knots. Hannah and Beth had had a pet rabbit once. Josh had wanted to name it Bunnicula. The twins had gone with Thumper, but Josh and his dad both called it Bunnicula when the girls weren’t around. It had been a really cute pet; the twins adored it. 

Josh didn’t want to eat this rabbit. That felt even more animalistic than rooting around in trash. He watched it warily, waiting for it to run away. The walls of the safe room inside his brain shrunk a little bit. 

The rabbit turned its head.

Josh lunged. 

***

Chris knew that he wasn’t getting any better, but he only knew this from conversations he’d overheard, whispers that weren’t meant for him. Honestly, it was kind of annoying. Ashley was clearly trying to keep him from worrying, but the secrecy was worrying him more, he thought, than a diagnosis would. Sam wasn’t saying anything either, and Chris refused to speak to Mike when he came in to check on him, so he waited until Emily stopped in one day to bring him some water.

“Hey,” he said as she set the cup down on the table beside him. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“With what?” she said, arching an eyebrow. Her words were calculated. He had a feeling she knew what he was talking about already.

“With me,” he said, gesturing to his leg. “Like, should I be worried?” 

Emily pursed her lips. “Ashley doesn’t want us freaking you out,” she said, confirming Chris’s suspicions. “But honestly? It’s your leg. You should probably know the truth.” She sighed, running a hand through her short hair and looking at the far wall for a moment before looking back at him. “Your leg’s infected. That’s why you’ve still got a fever. If the infection keeps up, it could go septic.”

Chris’s brow furrowed. He was familiar with those words, though he didn’t know their exact implications. “So I could die.” 

There was another moment of silence. Emily, who had remained stoic and impassive until now, looked at the ground. Her voice was quieter. “Pretty much.” 

“Oh.” Chris swallowed, running his hand along the scratchy fabric of his blanket. As if to drive Emily’s words home, Chris’s leg throbbed painfully. He hissed through his teeth, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Emily was staring at him with blatant concern. Then she stepped forward and gave him a brief, awkward hug. He was a bit startled; he and Emily hadn’t exactly gotten close over the past few months. She released him and looked into his eyes. He saw a hard determination in her gaze. It was a look she wore often, and it was one of the things he admired most about her. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” she told him firmly. “I don’t know how yet, but we will. I will.”

“Okay,” he said. When Emily said it, he could almost believe her.

 

He wasn’t sure what he expected Emily’s plan to entail, but he could hear the others’ raised voices outside shortly after Emily left the break room, so whatever it was sounded like it could be divisive. The last thing he wanted was to become a burden for the rest of his friends. Eventually the voices quieted and he couldn’t really make them out anymore, so he just waited. After about an hour, the door to the break room opened and everyone filed in. Ashley and Sam looked worried, but determined. Emily appeared grimly triumphant. Mike wasn’t making eye contact, but his expression wasn’t a happy one.

“Hey guys,” Chris said, a weak smile on his face. “Where’s the party?”

“Chris, I haven’t been honest with you,” Ashley said, twisting her hands together. “At first I didn’t want to admit it, and then I was just scared of how you’d react, but… you’re in bad shape. The way things are going, you might be looking at —”

“Death?” he interrupted. “I know. You don’t have to sugar coat it.”

Ashley winced. “Um, actually, I was going to say amputation.” 

Somehow, that frightened him more than the prospect of dying. They had no sterile equipment, no anesthesia… “How exactly would you manage that?” he asked nervously.

“Well, we couldn’t do it here,” Ashley said. 

He blinked at her, waiting, but it seemed like she was expecting him to fill in the blanks. When he didn’t, Sam spoke up. 

“We have to leave the Walgreens,” she said. “There’s a hospital a few miles east of here, Em and I saw signs for it on the highway when we first scoped out the gardening store.”

“It could be picked clean, but we’ll at least have a better chance of finding a place to perform surgery,” Emily said. “In any case, I’ve been thinking of leaving for a while now. There have been more and more hunters in the area, and after that last breach I just don’t trust this place to stay safe.” She glanced pointedly at Mike, who coughed.

Chris found his voice again. “We can’t just leave,” he said, frowning. “What if Josh comes back to find us and we’re not here?”

No one said anything. Ashley looked at her feet. 

“Chris,” Sam said, and her voice was gentle, persuading. “Be reasonable. You and I both know the chances of that happening are… well, they’re pretty slim.” 

“I don’t care,” Chris said stubbornly. “And what about Jessica? Hell, what about Matt?” 

Emily flinched at the sound of Matt’s name, but she shook her head firmly. “There’s no guarantee that they’re coming back. There’s no guarantee that they’re not already dead. And that goes for Josh, too,” she added. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but —”

“Mike,” Chris said sharply, and Mike jerked his head up, finally looking at Chris with a startled expression. “You can’t think this is a good idea, right?” 

Mike shifted uncomfortably. “I mean… listen, man, I don’t like the idea of leaving without Jess. Believe me, I hear you on that one. But I’m the reason you’re in this position in the first place.” He squared his shoulders, nodding slightly. “If this is what it takes to make sure you get better, then I’m for it.” 

They were all in agreement, then. He glowered at the four of them. “Do I even get a say in this?” he demanded.

“Not if your say is ‘no,’ you don’t,” Emily said simply. “I told you I’d figure this out, Chris, and this is me figuring it out. I’m sorry, but we can’t focus on people who aren’t with us anymore. All we can do is take care of the ones who are left.” 

“I don’t understand why we can’t just — just chop my leg off here,” Chris said. 

This time, Ashley didn’t look distressed so much as angry, almost exasperated. “Chris, do you know what the extent of my medical training is?” she said. Before he could answer, she went on. “I volunteered after school at the vet’s office where my mom worked. When I was  _ fourteen _ . I never even helped with surgery on an animal, let alone a person! I’m in  _ way  _ over my head with this! But guess what, I have the most experience of anyone else here, so it’s my responsibility to do what’s best for my patient. That’s you.” She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “You’re going to the hospital, Chris.” 

There was no point in arguing, he realized that now. It’s not as if he had much physical advantage over the four of them; if they had to, they could drag him into the car and tie him down. He deflated visibly. The others seemed to recognize this, because they all breathed out in relief. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Sam reassured him. “We’re doing this for your own good.”

Somehow, it didn’t feel that way to Chris. 

***

Hannah was not at the gardening store. In retrospect, Josh wasn’t sure why he’d ever expected her to be. He spent a few minutes angrily kicking at the broken chunks of brick and cement. It should’ve hurt, but his sense of touch, particularly pain, was so dulled by now that it barely registered. He was out of pills. He’d taken his last dose a couple of hours ago, and by the end of the day they’d have worn off and he would succumb. The walls were closing in, fast, and all he could do was let them. He wanted to cry, but he was too dehydrated. Finally, he stopped raging and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. There was nothing left in his future but rage; no need to start early. 

He decided to just keep walking. What else could he do? The strip mall gave way to a long stretch of road with occasional indistinct rubble and lots of abandoned vehicles. He caught a glimpse of himself in a grime-stained window as he passed an old minivan. He was covered in dried, congealed blood from the rabbit. It went down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. His face was gaunt, eyes big and bloodshot. He turned away. Somewhere in the distance, he heard an odd sound, a rapid-fire noise that was sort of familiar, though he couldn’t place it. He wondered if hunters were nearby with automatic weapons. He sort of hoped they’d put a bullet in him.

Josh wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking when he heard the distinctive, metallic click of a weapon being readied somewhere behind him. He stilled, breathing shallowly. Despite his earlier wishes, he was suddenly very afraid of being shot. Swallowing his panic, he said shakily, “P-please don’t shoot.”

“Huh,” a voice behind him said. Josh turned his head, and saw that a man was rising up from behind a rusted-out car. In his hands was a large gun with a long, narrow barrel. “You’re still talking, eh?”

“Um,” Josh said. He wasn’t sure what else to say. The man was wearing a thick, padded vest and a tan jacket, and there were a few strange things hooked to his belt. Handcuffs, for one. A walkie-talkie, for another. He was still pondering these things, trying to make sense of them, when the man raised the gun again.

“Sorry, guy,” the man said, and to his credit he did sound apologetic. “You’ll thank me later.” With that, he pulled the trigger. Josh flinched. Instead of the bang and instant nothingness he expected, though, he just felt a faint jab in his neck. His eyes opened, and he fumbled to feel at the juncture of his throat and shoulder. It was a dart, stuck in his flesh. Whatever realization he should’ve had, he found himself incapable of it. Everything was quickly growing hazy, and his vision blurred and tunneled until he couldn’t see anything. He fell on his face on the asphalt. 

“Sorry.” He heard the man’s voice like he was at the bottom of a deep well and the man was calling down to him. “You’ll be alright now.”

***

Once it was decided that they were leaving, everything happened very fast. They only had the one truck, which had three seats and the bed, so their capacity to bring along supplies was limited. Mike and Sam rigged some corrugated iron sheets to the inside of the bed, making the walls on either side a little higher so they could stack more stuff inside. Mostly they packed food, weapons, and medicine, shoved into crates and plastic bins and whatever else they could find. In the middle of all their shit was a makeshift bed for Chris. 

Everything was set to go by the morning after the plan had been made. Chris watched dejectedly through the open door of the break room as Emily and Ashley carried the last couple of backpacks out to the car. Sam and Mike came into the room, ready to bring out the final piece of cargo: Chris himself. 

He folded his arms tightly across his chest. “I’m not leaving.”

“Not an option,” Sam said. She went over to him, glancing at his injured leg. It was still propped up on pillows, but the sheets that normally covered it had been removed. The flesh that wasn’t hidden by the splint and bandages was red, skin pulled taut. Sam winced. 

“Why won’t you just leave me?” Chris asked. 

Sam sighed. “Chris, seriously —”

“You didn’t have a problem leaving Hannah and Beth behind,” Chris interjected. Whatever exasperated retort Sam had been about to say died on her tongue. She stared at him as though he’d slapped her. “Or when Jess left, you just let her go. And even Josh. I’m not saying it was easy for you, but you did it. So why not me?”

He waited, and for a moment she was silent. Her eyes were shiny, and at first he thought she was going to get angry at him. But then she said, in a much softer voice than he expected, “Because you’re all I have left.”

“That’s not true, you’ve got Emily and Ashley and… well, Mike, I guess,” Chris said. Mike, who was still awkwardly hovering in the doorway, made a small noise of protest. 

“You don’t understand,” Sam insisted, and there was the spark he’d been waiting for, the sharp, bright anger that made Sam shine as fierce as Emily. “The rest of them, they’re good people, but you’re… you’re  _ family _ , Chris. I’ve known you since Before. Hell, I’ve known you since we were kids!” She reached out to grip his hand tightly. “You’re the one person I have left who’s been there through everything. And I’ll be damned if I let you go, too.” 

Chris held her gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat and nodding. He squeezed her hand. “Okay.” He glanced around the room, sighing in a long huff of breath. “Could we, like, leave a note, maybe? In case Josh comes back so he knows where to find us?” He was being childishly optimistic at this point and he knew it. It had been five days — if Josh came back now, he wouldn’t be Josh anymore. He’d just be a mindless body, with seek and destroy as his only setting. Still, Chris had to ask. He had to cling to that last fragment of hope the same way Sam was clinging to his hand. The way you cling to the one thing you’ve got left. 

Mike shook his head, apologetic. “Sorry, man. Emily already said that’s a no-go. And honestly… I’m with her on this one. There’s no way to make sure some fucking hunters wouldn’t find the note first. They’d be on our asses faster than you can blink.” As if to emphasize his point, they all heard a distant sound, one that was familiar but took them all a minute to place.

“Did you guys just hear a helicopter?” Sam asked, brow furrowing.

“Fuck, I hope not,” Mike said. “I haven’t seen a military chopper in at least three years. Anything out there now was probably hijacked by hunters. The last thing we need is airborne attacks to worry about.” He shook the thought off, grimacing. “Like I was saying, Chris. It’s just not safe. I wish it was, honest to god.” 

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just… once we leave, it’s like, official. I’m never seeing him again.” He didn’t want to start bawling, not now, but he could feel the ache in his throat and the stinging heat in his eyes, so he sighed and finally let go of Sam’s hand. “Okay. Let’s just go.” 

Sam and Mike lifted him from the bed, and half-carried him out to the car where Ashley and Emily were waiting. They settled him onto the blankets in the truck bed, nestled amidst stacks of boxes and backpacks crammed with supplies. Five lives, reduced to what they could fit in a truck. One of the items caught Chris’s eye — it was a guitar. The guitar Josh had played one of the first nights the eight of them had been together. Chris remembered the genuine smile that had been on Josh’s face that night, the first time he’d seen it in so long, and he wanted to throw up.

Ashley followed his gaze and said, “I thought that might come in handy.” Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Emily thinks we’re using it as firewood, but we’ll see about that.” 

Mike agreed to drive, with Sam in shotgun and Emily in the seat between them. Ashley sat in the back with Chris. 

“All set back there?” Mike called through the busted back window. 

“Yep,” Ashley said, giving him a thumbs up. 

Mike turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life. As the truck pulled away towards the road, Emily and Sam turned around to look out the window as the Walgreens grew smaller behind them. Chris couldn’t stand to watch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are always so so appreciated! i really appreciate your continued support, and hearing from y'all is super encouraging! see ya soon.


	12. rescued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Josh each remember a fateful night, and have some strange encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so long i truly did not mean for this to happen. not much to say on this one other than i really hope you guys like the direction i'm taking this story because i feel like my plots never go where the comments predict they will and i'm just out here like #yolo 
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> graphic/gory descriptions, death (not of main characters), needles (briefly)

_ FOUR YEARS POST-OUTBREAK _

 

The night fell on the hunters’ base as a velvet, moonless blanket. Spring was slowly edging its way into summer, and most of the hunters had the windows of their bunks open, doors flung wide to let in the night air. 

Jack had already doled out watch duty for the night, and Josh had managed to avoid first shift. Hannah and Beth both got stuck on perimeter patrol, which basically meant pacing around the parking lot all night. Josh didn’t envy them. He could tell Hannah in particular didn’t want to do it. There had been a couple zombies close to camp earlier in the week, which had spooked her, but Jack had assured everyone they were safe as ever. The zombies were few and far between since the weather shifted to the warmer side. 

Some other night, Josh might’ve offered to take Hannah’s watch duty instead, but there was something on his mind. He’d been turning it over in his head for months — years, if he was honest with himself. He leaned back on his elbows on his bed, glancing over at where Chris sat by the open window, flipping through some old comic by the meager light of his flashlight. Chris’s tongue poked out a little bit as he read, eyes narrowed against the darkness. Josh’s heart swelled, and he could feel it thumping in every part of his body.

“Hey,” he said, his voice coming out too loud in the quiet room. Chris looked up, a little surprised, and smiled expectantly. Josh felt weirdly exposed. “No moon tonight,” he said casually. “Bet we could see the stars really good.” 

“Yeah,” Chris agreed, glancing out the window before turning back to Josh. “Wanna go to the roof?” 

“Read my mind,” Josh said, grinning. He pushed himself up off the bed as Chris closed his comic, carefully marking his place with a folded corner of the page. The two boys set off for the stairwell, passing several open doors to other rooms as they went. A small group of hunters gathered in one of the common areas, passing around bottles of booze and chuckling easily, swapping kill stories. 

When he opened the door to the roof, Josh was pleasantly surprised to see it was empty. He was relieved; he had expected at least a couple other people taking advantage of such a clear night. If he actually worked up the nerve to talk to Chris about what was on his mind, though, he much preferred the privacy. They crossed to the middle of the roof and dropped down to sit, Chris sitting cross-legged while Josh hugged his knees to his chest, both looking up at the stars.

“Goddamn,” Chris breathed. The sky was full tonight, stars swelling like there were too many of them and they were spilling out, a hundred thousand sparks of light. If there was one thing to be said for the end of the world, it left you with one hell of a view.

Not that Josh was looking at the sky. He was too busy looking at the stars reflecting in Chris’s glasses, the wide-eyed wonder that made his face appear almost childlike. 

Chris glanced sidelong at him and smiled slightly, amused. “What’re you looking at? The sky’s up there, dummy,” he said.

Josh knew in that moment that he was going to chicken out, but that was okay. Maybe he didn’t need to tell Chris anything; maybe Chris already knew. Judging by the look on his face, he certainly knew something. They shuffled closer together and Josh sighed, slow and contented. Down below, he could hear the crackle of flames as some of the guys lit bonfires in the parking lot. Chris’s head rested gently against Josh’s shoulder. The stars were endless, crashing together with the pounding of Josh’s heart. 

*** 

_ PRESENT DAY _

 

Dreams and memories gave way to a foggy darkness, and a rhythmic whirring filled Josh’s ears. He shifted, but something was pinning him down. He could feel thick straps across his wrists, his ankles, even his neck. That sent a flare of panic shooting up from his stomach and he opened his mouth to speak, but he could barely move his jaw enough to let out the small squeak of fear that left him involuntarily. Something was strapped to his face. He could feel cool metal against his chin.

Over the strange ambient noise, a voice spoke. It was unfamiliar, a woman’s. “Hey, this one’s waking up.”

Another voice, one Josh sort of recognized, replied, “Bullshit. I shot him point-blank, the tranq should have him out for hours.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to tell you, he’s moving.” 

Josh struggled to open his eyes. His lids felt weighed down, everything in his body slow and heavy. Eventually, he blinked a couple times and a grey-green metal ceiling greeted him. He shifted his jaw a bit and deduced that he was wearing a muzzle of some kind. Though he couldn’t move his head too much, he was able to roll it to the side enough to see a concerned woman staring at him. She was older, with grey hair in a tight knot on top of her head. She had on the same vest and tan jacket that the man had been wearing. Behind her, Josh could see a small window with thick glass. There was nothing but clouds and sky framed in the pane, and Josh realized they were flying. 

“How’s he awake already?” the man’s voice grumbled from Josh’s other side. The guy’s face appeared as he leaned over, staring into Josh’s eyes. “None of the others have woken up. Must have a tolerance for tranqs.” 

“This is the one you found who was still capable of speech?” the woman asked. Now she was peering at Josh curiously, too. He felt exposed, frightened, and tried to jerk himself away from them. The straps held fast.

“Settle down, kiddo,” the woman said, not unkindly. “We’re not going to hurt you.” 

“Excuse me?” said a new voice, and this one Josh did recognize, but he couldn’t figure out from where. “I think I know him. Can I come over there?”

The man’s brow creased. “You’re supposed to remain seated for the duration of the flight —”

The woman cut him off. “Come on over. Just for a minute, though.” 

Josh heard the sound of a seatbelt unclicking, and the shuffling, careful steps of someone weaving their way between obstacles. Then the person leaned forward, and Josh saw who it was.

“Matt?” he tried to say, but it came out more like “Muh?” because of the muzzle. Matt beamed at him. 

“Josh! I knew it was you. Wow, you look… rough, bud.” His smile faded a little as he took in Josh’s appearance. “Shit, so you got bitten. Was it at the gardening store? Is everyone else okay?” Before Josh could attempt to reply, Matt waved his hand. “Sorry, you can’t really talk right now, huh? Man, it’s good to see a familiar face. Wish it was better circumstances.”

“Wuddya doin’ here?” Josh managed to get out. On top of his restricted jaw movement, his tongue felt about three times as heavy as normal. It was like he had a fat slug in his mouth. 

Matt understood him anyway. “I got bitten, too,” he said, seeming none too bothered by his impending zombification. “After the horde swarmed us, I got the hell out of there and ran to the store next door. They followed me, so I barricaded myself in this little single-stall bathroom in there. I couldn’t leave, I was trapped for days. I kept hoping maybe you guys would come back for me, but then I realized you all probably thought I was dead,” he said ruefully. “The zombies were hanging out right outside. I thought I was gonna die of dehydration in there. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.” Matt’s expression turned grim. “I made a break for it, and one of ‘em got a good chomp, right on my shoulder. I thought I was fucked, but then these guys showed up.” 

“You’re lucky, kiddo,” the woman agreed. “By the time we get to base, you’ll have been infected for just over 48 hours. Things’ll be easy as pie.” She looked at Josh sympathetically. “Not quite as easy for you, I’m afraid. But you look recently turned. You’ll be just fine soon enough.”

“Whuh…” Josh started, and then stopped. He was getting increasingly agitated, and the muzzle felt like it was jabbing deep into his skin where it was strapped around his head. Nothing made sense. He wasn’t sure if he was actually awake or still dreaming. 

“Alright, I think it’s time you go back to sleep for a bit,” the man said. He loomed over Josh with a large syringe in his hand. Josh flailed as much as he could, but the man pressed the needle into his neck. Josh’s already foggy brain grew foggier almost instantly, and he could feel himself drifting into unconsciousness again. Before he blacked out, he noticed a small, red patch sewn to the sleeve of the man’s jacket. It had three letters on it in bold black print.  **ZRR.**

*** 

_ FOUR YEARS POST-OUTBREAK _

 

Chris wasn’t sure if it was the screaming or the gunshots that woke him. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was instantly aware of both, coming from down below in every direction. He sat up, head spinning as he did so. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the roof. Josh had dozed off too, curled against where Chris had been a moment ago. Chris didn’t wake him at first, just crawled over to the edge of the roof and looked down. 

What he saw below was horrifying. More zombies than he’d ever seen in his life, at least three times as many as that day in the toy store when he’d almost been bitten — and they were everywhere, tearing apart the hunters’ camp and the people inside it. The smell of charred flesh wafted sickly up from where some of the hunters had shoved zombies desperately into a bonfire. The zombies, undaunted, continued to fling themselves forward until their muscles and bones gave out, too cooked to continue. Inside the building, crashing around on the floors below, Chris could hear more of them.

Scrambling back over to Josh, Chris shook him roughly. “Josh, wake up. We gotta move right now, dude.” 

“Huh?” Josh mumbled, squinting groggily at him. The sounds and smells from below seemed to hit him, and he sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Zombies. In the camp.” Chris was trying — and failing — to tamp down the bone-deep panic shaking its way through him. He’d seen his fair share of zombies up close, killed plenty of them, but this many? All he could think about was the weight of a zombie pinning him to the floor of the toy store, the helplessness in that moment when you realize you’re truly fucked. He pulled Josh to his feet.

“Fuck. How many of them?” Josh asked.

Chris shook his head. “Way too many. We gotta go, man.” 

They ran for the door to the stairwell, clattering down to the third floor. There was no one around, infected or otherwise, but doors hung ajar like rooms had been abandoned in the middle of whatever their occupants had been doing. Chris spared a moment to look inside a few, hoping to find a gun, but there was nothing. Josh grabbed his wrist and yanked him along, down the hall to the next flight of stairs. 

The second floor was far from empty. Kerosene lamps that normally hung along the walls were mostly knocked down on the floor, but the boys could still make out the chaos that was happening as they stepped out of the stairwell. People were running amok, panicked, and it was hard to tell who was a hunter and who was infected. Gunshots rang out amidst screams of pain. Slumped in the doorway of the first room to their left, Chris saw a hunter who’d been thoroughly devoured. There were huge bites taken out of their throat and shoulder, their eyes blank and head hanging at a wrong angle from what was left of their neck. Held loosely in their hand was a large hunting knife. Chris knelt down and grabbed it, shoving the handle towards Josh.

“You’re better at this than I am,” Chris muttered. His hands were shaking too badly to use a knife anyway. They skirted further down the hall, passing men and women trying desperately to find some way away from the zombies flooding into the space. The infected were coming up from the stairwell, and for a moment the boys stopped in their tracks, seeing their escape route was impassable. Josh yanked Chris into a room, shoving the door shut behind them. He pressed up against it, letting out a harsh breath. 

Then both boys yelped in shock and horror, because they were not alone. A man was on the floor, his stomach torn open, guts spilling from him in thick ropes. He was still alive, but barely, and his hands moved fruitlessly like he was trying to piece himself back together. The smell was unbearably strong, and Chris pressed a hand to his mouth. 

“Please,” the hunter rasped, and his shaky, blood-soaked fingers fumbled for an object beside him. It was a gun.

Chris understood what the man was asking. Tears were burning in his eyes as he looked from the gory remains of the dying hunter to Josh, whose face was unreadable. Josh stepped forward, tucking the knife into his belt and picking up the gun. His shoes squelched in the rapidly growing puddle of blood. 

“Please,” the hunter said again. Josh nodded, swallowed roughly, and shot him in the head. Chris flinched. 

Josh turned away, grim. He held the gun out to Chris, who just stared at him. “Damn it, Chris, take it,” Josh snapped. “Pull it together, man.”

Chris took the gun. The hunter’s blood was on it. He checked the chamber. Six shots left. Outside, the shrieks and groans of the infected were drowning out the cries of the hunters. Soon the floor would be entirely overwhelmed. 

“We should’ve stayed on the fucking roof,” Chris muttered. He crossed the room to the lone window, popping it open and looking down. This room faced the back of the building, not the front parking lot where the bonfires were. He didn’t see any zombies down below, and if they moved fast enough they could take cover in one of the smaller buildings across the road. It might be their best shot at escaping.

“Here, we can go this way,” he said. “Come on.”

Josh joined Chris at the window, peering down at the ground. “It’s a bit of a drop,” he said. 

Behind them, something slammed into the door, causing it to shake. The boys looked at each other. “After you,” Chris said. 

There were tall, dense bushes growing at the base of the wall outside, and those cushioned the blow somewhat, but Chris’s body ached as soon as he hit the ground. He was on his feet quickly, already ready to book it across the street, but to his horror he saw that Josh was slowly moving around the edge of the building as if to head back into the fray. 

“Josh!” he hissed. “What the fuck, man?”

“We have to get back in there,” Josh said. 

Chris’s eyes bugged out of his head a little bit. “Um, no we don’t? Josh, they’re  _ here _ , they’re inside, we have to go right now!”

“Where’s Hannah and Beth?” Josh demanded. “I’m not leaving without them!” 

This gave Chris pause. He didn’t want to leave without the twins either, or Sam and Jess for that matter. But all he could think of was the person he’d seen with their throat torn out, the man with his insides spilling all over the floor. He remembered again the zombie holding him down, the way its teeth had snapped at his neck, breath hot and smothering. He’d just seen firsthand what these fuckers were capable of, what they could do to a person. He was not about to see it again. “They’ll catch up with us,” he said, swallowing his guilt. “We have to go, Josh!” 

He could see the hesitation in his friend’s eyes, and his stomach dropped. He grabbed Josh’s hand and started to yank him towards the road, towards the buildings that would offer them safety, but Josh resisted. Before they could get into a fight about it, a zombie rounded the corner, wailing horribly.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Josh said, and they took off running, feet pounding the cracked pavement as the zombie charged after them. It was one of the ones that had gotten in the fire, and stench of rotting, burning flesh choked in their noses as they ran. Chris couldn’t remember ever feeling so afraid, the air tearing through his lungs as he spotted a storefront with the window glass entirely shattered. He and Josh leapt through it, the zombie at their heels. Chris whirled around and shot it, wasted a bullet because he was shaking and scared and his first one just embedded in the zombie’s shoulder. The second went through its forehead, and it stopped in its tracks before collapsing to the floor. 

“That probably attracted more of them,” Josh said quietly. “We should hide.” 

Chris watched the dark pool of blood growing from where the zombie lay face-first in front of him, and then he let Josh lead him to a storage room in the back of the store, where they holed up and listened to the sounds of chaos from across the street until morning. 

*** 

_ PRESENT DAY _

 

The truck kept a steady pace down the abandoned highway. Occasionally, Mike had to slow down and edge around abandoned cars, or go over suitcases strewn across the road like speed bumps. For the most part, though, it was smooth sailing. 

Chris was miserable. His leg still hurt, and his fever had spiked. It wasn’t just the physical symptoms, though. The guilt of leaving Josh behind felt like a lead weight pressing on his chest.

Ashley eyed him with concern. She reached a hand over to lay against his forehead, and her skin felt like ice. Based on the look on her face, he guessed he was just really, really hot. She brushed her fingers through his hair comfortingly. “You doing okay?” she asked.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. He kept his voice quiet so that the three in the cab would be less likely to hear him through the broken window. 

Looking a little confused, Ashley said, “Of course.”

“It’s kind of a confession,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s not a secret, exactly. But I never really told anyone. I keep thinking about it.” 

“Chris?” Ashley said gently. “You’re rambling.” 

He swallowed against the sticky, dry feeling in his mouth and shifted as best he could without jostling his leg. “A few months ago, when we were separated from our group and we lost Josh’s sisters?” he started. She nodded, encouraging. “It wasn’t like we had no idea where they were. We could’ve gone back to look for them, but — fuck, there were so many zombies, Ash. And I was so scared.” He twisted his blanket between his fingers. “I was so scared of dying that night. I couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.” 

“I think anyone would feel that way in that situation,” Ashley said.

Chris shook his head. “Not Josh. He was ready to go right back in there. But I stopped him. And then when we went back after the zombies had moved on… we met up with Sam and Jess again, but there was no one else left. His sisters were gone.” The car went over another bump in the road and Chris’s leg bounced painfully. “Josh fell apart,” he continued. “And I promised myself that I would never get so scared that I left someone behind again. But I fucking left him anyway.” 

“Chris,” Ashley said, and her voice wasn’t exactly sharp, but it shut him up. “None of that was your fault. And it wasn’t the same, what happened with Josh.  _ He’s _ the one that left, okay?” 

Whatever fever-addled argument Chris was about to come up with fell short, because they heard something rumbling on the road behind them. It sounded like another car, coming up fast though they couldn’t see it yet.

“What is that?” Mike said, glancing in the spotty rearview mirror. Sam and Emily were both turned around again to look out behind them. There was something kicking up dust on the side of the road, swerving wildly as it headed for the highway. 

It came into view quite suddenly, and Chris’s stomach dropped with a horrible shock of recognition. It was a big truck, decorated in barbed wire and a black, spray-painted skull with antlers coming out of it. Someone was driving, and another person was leaning out the side, a shotgun in hand pointed at their car. 

“Hunters,” Emily breathed. 

At the same time, Sam said in a horrified voice, “Jack.”

The sickening swoop of Chris’s stomach increased as the realization hit him along with everyone else. Emily was staring at Sam, who looked mortified at her slip-up.

“You know this guy’s name?” Emily demanded. She was staring from Sam’s guilty face to Chris’s. “Are you fucking hunters?” she asked, her voice raising in pitch.

“Hey guys? What the fuck is the plan right now?” Mike interjected, urging the truck forward as Jack’s nightmare vehicle gained on them. “LIke, does someone wanna shoot those guys or what?” 

“You wanna know how  _ I  _ recognize that truck?” Emily said loudly, ignoring Mike. “Those are the fuckers that killed my parents.”

“Emily,” Sam said urgently. “We were only with them so they wouldn’t kill us, we never wanted to be like them —” 

Mike jerked the car off the road, and everything in the bed slid sideways. A backpack fell onto Chris’s injured leg, and he almost blacked out for a second. Jack’s truck was right behind them now, and the man leaning out took a shot at them, the loud blast from the shotgun ringing in their ears. Ashley shrieked, grabbing Chris’s shoulder and trying to yank him down. Mike let out a string of expletives and swerved the car again. Despite his panic, Chris was confused — this wasn’t Jack’s style, to just wildly chase after a car in plain sight. He waited, he planned, he tricked and deceived. Jack’s truck was pulling up flush with theirs, and Chris could see the man himself in the driver’s seat — Jack, turning from the road to fix Chris with that cold, frightening stare. For a moment, Chris was certain Jack recognized him.  

The next shot hit the iron sheeting Mike and Sam had put up, punching a hole through it. “Someone do something! I can’t go any faster!” Mike shouted. 

Most of the weapons were in the truck bed and now scattered everywhere, but there were a couple guns in the cab, and Emily and Sam were scrambling for them. Emily quickly loaded a revolver and grabbed Mike’s shoulder. “Move your head,” she said through gritted teeth. “And take a hard left.”

“Um,  _ they’re  _ to our left!” Mike said.

“Just do it!” she snapped. Cursing under his breath, Mike jerked the wheel to the left, and the truck careened toward Jack’s. The hunter in the passenger seat lifted his shotgun. Emily lunged over Mike so she was practically hanging out his window and fired a shot at the hunter’s hand. Shouting in pain, the guy nearly dropped his weapon. The brief delay was all Emily needed. She shot again, right in his face. He tumbled back into the cab, shotgun falling from his lifeless hands. They were so close at this point that for a moment everyone was certain the two trucks were going to collide. Then Mike was pulling away and ahead, barbed wire from Jack’s truck scraping against Mike’s side door. 

Jack was still driving, and now that he was behind them again Chris could see clearly the desperate rage in his face. Any other day, backup would have arrived by now. Chris wondered suddenly if this was all that was left of Jack’s whole crew. 

Sam leaned out the back window. She aimed a shot at one of Jack’s front tires, but missed. “Damn it,” she hissed. She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes.

Before the outbreak, Sam had never so much as held a gun. Chris remembered one day when Lisa taught them all how to use a handgun, and Sam had at first refused to even hold it. “Y’know what pacifists are in the apocalypse, Samantha?” Lisa had said coolly. “Dead, that’s what.” 

So she’d learned, and now, five years in, something changed whenever Sam prepared to take a shot. He could see it now, as the muscles in her arms tightened and her jaw set. She pulled the trigger, not once but three times. The bullets tore into Jack’s front right tire, and the car jerked and slowed, rubber peeling away and scattering on the dirt behind them. Mike was already driving away, heading back towards the highway and the momentary cover of a tunnel. 

“Holy shit,” Chris said. “Nice shooting.” 

“Nice driving,” Sam said. Mike let out a shaky laugh.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Emily said, “Blue Sedan.”

“What?” Sam said.

“My parents. They… we were in a blue Sedan. We pulled over to the side of the road because my mom wasn’t feeling well. She was puking her guts out, and I was walking along the side of the road to get away from the smell. The hunters pulled up in that truck, shot my parents, took all our shit, and then laughed as they drove away.” Emily shifted in her seat so that she could look from Sam to Chris out the window. “Were you there that day? Did you help them? And don’t you dare tell me you don’t remember every person you killed, or you might as well be admitting you’re as heartless as they are.” 

Sam was very quiet. “You’re right. I remember everyone,” she said. “And I don’t remember your parents. I swear.”

Emily looked at Chris, and he nodded in agreement. After a pause, Emily slouched in her seat, crossing her arms. “When we get to the hospital,” she said, “we’ll fix up Chris’s leg, and then I think it’s time we went our separate ways.”

“Em —” Ashley started to protest. 

“Don’t,” Emily cut her off. 

They reached the other end of the tunnel, sunlight flooding all of their eyes. Maybe that’s why they didn’t see the bus approaching until it was practically on top of them. They nearly hit it, but Mike slammed on the brakes and so did whoever was driving the bus. It was big and study-looking, like the kind they used to transport convicts to prison. This time, the jostling of the truck sent a box of canned food spilling over, and one of the cans smacked Chris right in the head. He flung his hands up to shield himself from more projectiles. 

Someone was getting out of the bus. Now that both vehicles had stopped moving, Chris could see that it was indeed a prison bus, the windows narrowed and barred so you couldn’t see inside. Painted along the side were the words  **ZOMBIE RETRIEVAL AND REHABILITATION** . 

“What the fuck,” Mike said flatly. 

The person who had gotten out of the bus was a woman, wearing some sort of bulletproof vest and a tan jacket. She was holding a rifle, but not pointing it at any of them. “Please, don’t be alarmed,” she said, raising her free hand. “We’re here to help.” 


	13. before i wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh wakes up somewhere new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! been awhile, but hopefully the fact that this chapter got hefty will make up for it. all josh this time! i wanna leave you in suspense about everyone else's fates for the moment :3c and also i felt like josh deserved some significant time on the page, it's been a minute. 
> 
> also, there's a few OCs in this chapter, but they're fairly minor so i hope you won't mind.
> 
> we're getting... somewhat close to the end, maybe? there's still a bunch of stuff that needs to happen and this fic is getting sooo much longer than i anticipated, but i would say we're solidly in the third act now. if you've stuck around this long, thank you SO much!!! i really hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoy writing it!!! every time i get a comment on this fic it fills me with so much joy. 
> 
> WARNINGS: needles/syringes, throwing up

He didn’t remember the first two injections. They told him later that he was too far gone at that point, the infection fully enveloping his mind. The third one, though — he remembered that. And he sort of wished he didn’t. 

Josh regained consciousness in a hospital ward, strapped to the gurney and still muzzled. He could hear moans and snarls all around him. He recognized the sounds, tell-tale noises made by enraged zombies. He had a brief moment of instinctive fear before he remembered that he was one of them now, so he didn’t need to be afraid. Then he was just confused, because if he was a zombie, how the hell was he able to think lucidly?

That was when a doctor came in. She was wearing a white lab coat and had tired lines under her eyes. She was followed by two orderlies and a nurse. The nurse was holding a syringe. 

“He’s conscious, I see,” the doctor said to the nurse. Josh watched the four people approach, his adrenaline spiking more and more every time he glanced at the syringe. 

“He’s been conscious on and off since the last injection,” the nurse said. He was a lot younger than the doctor, and he looked a little nervous. “But he stopped displaying signs of outward aggression about six hours ago.”

“Mm,” the doctor hummed, nodding. She made eye contact with Josh and smiled kindly. “Hello there. My name is Dr. Langley. Can you understand me?”

“What are you doing to me?” Josh said. His throat felt raw, like he’d been screaming for hours on end. He thought about what the nurse had said a moment ago, and realized that maybe he had. 

“We’re making you better,” Dr. Langley said. She gestured to the nurse. “This is Patrick, he’s going to give you a little shot, that’s all.”

“How did I get here?” Josh asked. He was feeling a little panicked now, and he really wished this Patrick dude would stop slowly approaching him with a big-ass needle. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t be afraid,” Dr. Langley said gently. She gestured with one hand, and the orderlies came to stand on either side of Josh, gripping his shoulders as if to hold him still. 

“Don’t worry,” said one of the orderlies, a young woman maybe a year or two older than Josh. “It doesn’t hurt that bad. I barely remember it.”

“Remember…?” Josh began, confused, but then Patrick the nurse jabbed the needle into Josh’s neck and his question cut off in a yelp of shock. Whatever Patrick had injected him with, he could swear he felt it curling in his veins, slick and cold. His mind clouded, a blanket of rage falling over it like a defense mechanism.

“Step back,” Dr. Langley told the orderlies. Josh decided he hated her. As the orderlies released him, the doctor said to Josh, “The infection has… hotwired your brain, in a way. We’re just giving your body the tools to un-hotwire it. I’m afraid it’s not a pleasant process, but now that you’re awake, the worst of it is over.” She smiled at him again, and spread her hands. “Welcome back to humanity.” 

Then they left him alone, and Josh had nothing but the war inside his body for company. He could feel the rage, the infection, trying to keep its grip on him, but now his body was fighting back. His head felt like it was going to explode. Everything hurt, and all around him he could only hear shrieks and gurgles, all too loud and never ceasing, like everyone in this ward had an endless supply of air just for screaming. 

Josh wished he could say that time seemed to blur, that minutes faded into each other and that hours passed without him realizing it, but he was aware of each agonizing second. If this was the cure, Josh would rather be a zombie. As soon as that sentiment crossed his mind, he mentally recoiled from the implications of it. Was he really so ready to give up on his humanity? Maybe he hadn’t had much left to begin with.

An hour or so later, one of the orderlies came back over to Josh’s bed. It was the young woman from earlier, holding a glass of water with a long straw. She looked almost… shy. Intrigued by him. He watched her warily as she drew closer. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. He didn’t reply. It’s not that he couldn’t; in fact, his thoughts felt less scrambled the longer he lay there. Still, he waited to see what her next move would be. The orderly held up the cup. “I brought you some water. We can’t take your muzzle off yet. Just in case.”

She stood beside him and poked the straw through the gaps in his muzzle until he felt the sharp edge of the plastic against his lips. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the orderly, of this whole situation, but god, he was thirsty. He tipped his head up as much as he could and choked a little on the drink, but he managed to swallow some without inhaling it into his lungs. The orderly smiled at him. Now that he got a better look at her up close, he could see she had a jagged scar across her mouth. 

“My name’s Haley,” she said. “I was in your place about nine months ago. I was in the third round of testing for the cure. My group was the first one that worked.” She smiled faintly. “You, you’re lucky. You’re in group five. They’ve really got it perfected.” 

Haley was definitely waiting for him to respond now. She knew he could, she’d heard him talking to the doctor not long ago, and it was obvious he was even more lucid now. He had a lot he could ask. How long had he been at the hospital? Who were these people with this “cure?” Had she seriously been a zombie nine months ago? He didn’t say any of this, just blinked at her. 

“Um,” she said, and now she looked nervous. “What’s your name, anyway? I’ve been calling you Chris, ‘cause you kept saying that name. Is that your name?” 

Josh felt his blood turn to ice at the sound of Chris’s name. Something about Haley’s hopeful smile, it just made him angry. He didn’t want her knowing about Chris, didn’t want her saying his name. And what kind of idiot would think he’d be saying his own name in his sleep? Who  _ did _ that? 

Maybe she saw something change in his eyes, because Haley hesitated, and he saw her take a small step back. His anger was a mix of the infection and his own temper at this point, and he knew with certainty that it was the latter, not the former, that made him snap his teeth at her like a rabid animal. She yelped, backing up a few more feet before turning and hurrying out of the room. He wasn’t sure what had made him think that was a good idea. He felt scrambled inside, everything churning like an angry sea. She was speaking to him like he was a person, that was the thing, and he didn’t feel like a person anymore. When he’d snapped at her, she’d looked at him differently — like he was a monster. Part of him was vindicated. Part of him was miserable. 

Haley returned, this time with Patrick in tow. He had another syringe, and whatever vindication Josh had felt disappeared, replaced with dread. He didn’t want more of whatever they’d stuck in him. He squirmed against his restraints. 

“Get away from me,” he said quickly.

Patrick held up his hands like he was surrendering. He kept a hold on that needle, though. “We’re not going to hurt you, Chris,” he said.

“My name’s not Chris,” Josh said through gritted teeth. 

Patrick and Haley shared a glance. “Okay,” Patrick said. “Well, you’re getting a little worked up, and that’s not great for the healing process. I’m just going to help you relax, okay?” He gestured to the syringe. 

Josh realized that he didn’t have much choice in this matter. And honestly, he could do with a little relaxation right about now. Hell, maybe they’d just knock him out completely and he’d wake up… well, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel when he woke up, but that was for future Josh to worry about. Some of the fight left him, and as Patrick jabbed him with the needle, he greeted the drowsy feeling like an old friend.

“Could you tell us your name?” Patrick asked, already sounding far away.

Why the hell not. Closing his eyes, he said, “It’s Josh.” And then he was asleep, heavy and dreamless. 

 

He woke up much later. The ward was quiet, and the boarded up window on the opposite wall from his bed had no light showing through the cracks. Dr. Langley was back, standing beside his bed and watching him. She didn’t react when he woke up, and they stared at each other for a long moment before she broke the silence.

“Josh, right? Is that short for Joshua?” she asked. He nodded, and she smiled a little. “That was my son’s name. How are you feeling, Josh?” 

He was about to retort with something snarky, about how being strapped down to a gurney for god knows how long made him feel just  _ great _ , but then he took a moment to actually assess himself, and realized that he felt… better. The rage that held his brain in a chokehold was gone, and though he felt physically worn, his mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. 

Dr. Langley must have noted his expression, because she smiled wider now. “You had us a little worried there when you became aggressive this afternoon. At this stage in treatment, that normally indicates that your body is rejecting the cure. I’m relieved to see that wasn’t the case.” 

Josh flushed slightly, remembering his behavior towards Haley. He mulled over Dr. Langley’s words. “So are you saying I’m not infected anymore? I’m better?”

“You will be,” she said, nodding. “The treatment has two stages. The initial stage is the most crucial. You receive three consecutive doses of the cure over the course of three days. After that, it all depends on how long you were infected. Do you have an idea of when you were bitten?” 

“A few weeks ago,” Josh said. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that there was a cure, that it had existed for some length of time, and he’d never heard so much as a whisper about its existence in the last nearly six years. 

“You’re very lucky we found you when we did,” Dr. Langley said. “At this stage of development, our cure has a 99 percent success rate for those infected within a month or less.” She reached over and fiddled with something at Josh’s side. A moment later, the straps holding him to the gurney had been removed. She motioned for him to sit up and he did, his head spinning slightly. The doctor unfastened his muzzle and eased it off him. Josh winced, rubbing at the sides of his face and working his jaw. 

“What happens now?” he asked.

“You’ll be taken to our recovery wing. For you, I’m going to recommend three weekly doses, and then based on the mental assessment at the end of those three weeks, you’ll be free to go,” Dr. Langley said. 

Josh still had questions — where was he supposed to go after this? What mental assessment? But it was as if Dr. Langley could sense this, and urged him out of bed. 

“I’m afraid we have a rather quick turnaround at the moment due to limited beds,” she told him. “There will be time for questions later. Just go along to the recovery wing.” It was clear the conversation was over.

Staggering on unsteady feet, stomach twisting unpleasantly, Josh moved around the curtained-off area where he’d been kept. An orderly was waiting for him, a burly man who took one look at Josh and then averted his gaze, head bent low. Together, they left the ward. 

There were at least a dozen other curtained-off beds in the room, and Josh almost wished he could see their occupants. The orderly hurried him along, down a dimly lit hallway towards an elevator. It had been years since Josh had been somewhere with electricity. The floor they were on was relatively empty, though Josh could hear noises coming from other rooms around them as the orderly pressed the call button on the elevator. With a  _ ping _ , the doors slid open, and Josh and the orderly stepped inside. They rode down two floors, Josh’s stomach continuing to protest. His head was starting to ache, too, a throbbing just behind his eyes. 

The orderly still wasn’t looking at him, which was irritating. Josh probably looked pretty rough at the moment, but god, hadn’t this guy heard of bedside manner? Eyeing the man over, Josh noted a deep, puckered scar along the length of the guy’s left hand. It looked like an animal bite, but Josh knew better.

“You used to be a zombie too?” he asked.

The man finally looked up, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Josh. There was a challenge there, and it didn’t take more than a couple seconds for Josh to realize why. He  _ knew  _ this man. His name was… Carl, that was it. He was one of Jack’s men, one of the hunters. Carl had never been a fan of keeping kids around, not even Jessica — he’d thought they were a liability. Josh hadn’t spared him much thought when they were all at the hunters’ camp, let alone in the months that followed their separation. 

“Been awhile, huh, Washington?” Carl said. It was around this time that Josh also noticed Carl was armed. A pistol hung from his hip. Josh had a brief, panicked vision of Carl shooting him, leaving him to bleed out in the elevator. As his fear spiked, so did a brief flash of rage, but it left as quickly as it arrived.

“What are you doing here?” Josh asked, trying his best to sound unaffected.

“Got here same way as you,” Carl said. He ran the fingers of his right hand absentmindedly over the scar on his left. “Must’ve been eight months ago now, maybe nine. Not long after the camp was destroyed. I was bit, but I hadn’t turned yet. Once I was healed up, decided I’d help out around the hospital. It’s a pretty popular choice for the, ah,  _ rehabilitated _ .” 

Josh stared at him. He was trying to reconcile his memory of Carl with the man standing before him in scrubs and a tan jacket. “What…”

Carl cut him off. “Word of advice, kid. Folks around here? Not huge fans of people like us. Hunters.” He smiled grimly. “We got a fresh start here. Clean slate. So keep your head down and your mouth shut about your past, got it?” 

The elevator had come to a stop and the doors slid open somewhere in the midst of Carl’s speech, but neither of them was moving. The doors closed again, and the elevator sat heavily in their silence. 

“What about Jack?” Josh said finally. “He might still be out there, what if he —”

“Christ, who gives a shit about Jack?” Carl snapped. “He’s good as dead to us in here. You’ve been given a gift, Washington. Don’t fuckin’ question it.” He slapped the “open door” button and stomped out into the hall. Josh followed him. This floor looked similar to the one they’d just left, and Carl led him over to a door labeled 287C. Inside were more curtained-off sections. A few of these curtains were drawn back, and the beds’ occupants eyed Josh with mixed curiosity and caution. 

The bed at the very end of the row was empty, and resting on top of it was a grey plastic tray bearing a bowl of soup and a glass of water. Carl gestured to it. “Dinner,” he grunted. “Your next injection will be in a few days. Bathrooms are two doors down on the right. There’s a mess hall downstairs, but I doubt you’ll be in the mood for that yet.” He turned to leave, and then paused. His voice was a little less rough when he said, “Try to stay calm, alright? It takes a while to recover from the infection, and the rage can hang on for a while when you get too emotional.” 

Josh nodded dumbly, and Carl strode away without another word. Jesus, as if things weren’t weird enough. Josh felt like he was in some kind of dream state, and the spinning quality of his head didn’t help much. He sat down on the bed and picked up the bowl of soup, poking at it with the spoon. It was mostly broth, a brownish, meaty color, with what looked like carrots floating in it. It smelled rich and warm, and hunger was clawing at the walls of his stomach again, so he spooned a small amount of the soup into his mouth.

It wasn’t the best thing he’d ever eaten, but it sure beat raw rabbit meat. Just the one bite opened a chasm in his belly, and before he could stop himself he had abandoned the spoon entirely and was guzzling the soup straight from the bowl. 

There was a man sitting on the bed across the floor from him, watching from his partially open curtain. He clucked his tongue. “Bad idea, man.” 

Josh ignored him, setting the empty bowl back on the tray and wiping broth from his chin. He felt warm inside, sated. The feeling didn’t last long, however — his stomach gave a sharp lurch, and he pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes widening slightly. 

His neighbor hummed sympathetically and pointed back towards the exit. “Second door on the right.” 

Nodding, Josh stood up and walked as quickly as possible out the door and back into the hall. He barely made it to the dingy bathroom, shoving open a stall door before his stomach rebelled, all the soup he’d just consumed expelling from him. After he was done throwing up, his forehead clammy with sweat, he stayed sitting on the bathroom floor. He was holding onto the toilet for dear life, letting his eyes close for the briefest moment as his forehead touched cold porcelain. Then he thought about how gross that was and wearily got to his feet, rubbing his hands over his face. He went to the sink, somewhat surprised to see that the faucet worked, and splashed some water on his face before glancing at himself in the spotty mirror. They must have cleaned him up, because he was no longer covered in dried blood and filth. He had a bit more color in his face, though he still looked gaunt and sickly. He was wearing white pajama pants and a white T-shirt, the same as the other occupants of the ward. He peered into his reflection’s eyes, trying to see if he could spot the remnants of the infection staring out at him. 

“Alright, pull it together,” he muttered to himself. He tore his gaze away from the mirror and headed for the bathroom’s exit, pushing the door open and stepping out into the hall. He felt another wave of nausea pass over him and he leaned heavily against the wall, breathing hard through his nose.

“You think the puking is bad, just wait ‘til you get the shits. It is truly graphic.” Someone was behind him, the voice familiar in its teasing lilt, and Josh turned around, wide-eyed. Jessica had her arms crossed, decked out in the same white pajamas as Josh, her hair shorter than it had been but her smile the same, amused and rueful. He had never been so happy to see her. The emotions that rushed through him were pierced with that same brief rage, just as Carl had warned him. 

She stepped forward and embraced him. Josh so rarely let himself be held, wasn’t sure if he and Jess had ever hugged before, but he hugged her back tightly. She laughed softly, and when they pulled back she was beaming at him with shining eyes. 

“Sorry for ambushing you,” she said. “When I heard you were here, I couldn’t resist.” 

“Who told you?” Josh asked.

Jess lowered her voice. “Carl. We’re pretending we don’t know each other, but he tipped me off earlier today, told me you were getting released to the recovery ward. I was actually supposed to get out of here today, but I asked to stay awhile longer for you.”

“How long have you been here?” Josh asked, bewildered.

“Oh, a few weeks,” she said. Her brow furrowed with concern. “What happened to everyone else, Josh? Did you guys… did you find Mike? I got separated from him, this big hoard caught us off guard and — well, did you?” 

Josh thought about Mike aiming the gun at him, shooting Chris in the leg, giving him the ultimatum to leave. Mike’s sharp words,  _ don’t you think you’ve hurt him enough?  _ He swallowed all of that down and said, “Yeah, we met up with Mike again. He’s been trying to find you.”

“Oh,” Jess said, face relaxing in relief. “And everyone else? They’re okay too, right?” 

Again, Josh hesitated.  _ Were  _ they okay? Was Chris…? But no, he couldn’t even entertain that thought, not now. “Yeah, they’re okay. I got… I got bit, and I left. I couldn’t put them in danger.” It wasn’t a lie so much as an oversimplification, but he still felt its shameful weight. 

“Thank god,” Jessica said. “Well, who knows? Maybe they’ll find their way here, too.” 

“Jess… what  _ is  _ this place? Like, what the fuck is going on?” 

She laughed. “I don’t know a lot, but yeah, you could probably use a debriefing, huh?” Jess grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Now he could see that she was covered in newly-healing scars. It looked like she’d been through hell and back again. “Come on, the mess hall has really good coffee. You might barf it up, but it’ll taste good going down.” 

Josh followed her, still feeling dazed. If this was a dream, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was waiting for him when it was over.


	14. a message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Josh learn about Zombie Retrieval and Rehabilitation. Chris wakes up different. Josh and Jessica get a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise bitch bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
> 
> i am SO sorry for the delay on this chapter. i honestly thought i might never get the motivation or inspiration to finish this fic, but with the new year comes a new wave of inspiration, and i basically wrote this whole thing in one sitting and it's kind of hefty so! i really hope you enjoy and that there's someone out there who still wants to read this thing. i will try my very best to not wait another 5 months to update, i swear. 
> 
> no warnings here except the usual, i think? enjoy!!!!

Chris startled into consciousness like he was waking from the dead, gasping in a lungful of air as his eyes shot open. His vision, blurred without his glasses, was further hampered by the fact that the room he was in was dark and unfamiliar. He took another breath, this one less desperate, and blinked a few times, mentally taking stock of himself. He was warm, his back resting against something flat and cushy, a mattress. He could feel the slight achey twinge of a bruise on his forehead — he had a vague memory of a tin can falling on him. His arms felt heavy, leaden from sleep. He listened to himself breathe, felt the steady thump of his heart in his chest affirming that yes, he was in fact still alive. His legs felt — they felt fine, which after a moment he thought was weird. His left leg shouldn’t feel fine. It should feel burning and throbbing and awful. Right now, he couldn’t tell _what_ it felt like.

He sat up a bit on his elbows and squinted in the dim room at the lower half of himself. He could see the thick outline of his right leg under the blanket tucked around him.

Where his left leg should have been, the blanket was flat against the bed.

Memory slammed into Chris like a freight train, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free, and he almost screamed but his throat was too constricted to make a sound.

He remembered being in the bus, the strange bus full of other wide-eyed, frightened drifters and more people in tan jackets and badges that said **ZRR**. He remembered feeling feverish and frightened, Ashley’s soft hands against his sweaty face, Sam looking down at him with worry pinched along her brow. He could hear Emily and Sam and Mike all talking to the woman who’d stepped out of the bus before, but he only understood bits of their conversation. The rattling motion of the bus made his whole body ache.

“... main base …”

“... cure …”

“... surgeons at our hospital, I’m sure we can …”

Chris had eventually closed his eyes and passed out. When he woke again, they were in a building. A building with _lights_. Bright fluorescent bulbs shone overhead, and he was on a stretcher, and his friends were all standing around him, along with the woman from the bus and a man in a white lab coat.

“Ah, he’s up,” the man said, and he offered his hand to Chris. “My name’s Dr. Heron.” And then Dr. Heron had explained to him that his leg was pretty bad off, the nerve and vessel damage was intense, and that if the doctor specialized in that kind of thing he might’ve been able to save the leg, but he was one of the only surgeons on base and none of the others had the expertise, either.

“What I’m saying, Chris, is that unfortunately we will not be able to save your leg. However, I can promise you a sterile, safe amputation and a place for recovery. Zombies aren’t the only ones we’re rehabilitating here.”

And Chris had no fucking clue what he meant by _that_.

Things got a little blurry in Chris’s memory after that. He could recall someone — Sam, maybe — explaining to him that they were in a survivor base almost eighty miles from where they’d had their run-in with Jack, and this base was unlike anything they’d come across in the last five years. It was a hospital, surrounded by these huge fences, and there were more buildings in this little compound that they’d had yet to even see. Another place where apparently zombies were being kept and cured, and even further back, houses. Neighborhoods. Families tucked away in homes that had running water and power and heat. Chris felt dizzy, unable to wrap his head around it. He couldn’t fathom how such a thing could exist and he’d never known.

He had been wheeled into a room for surgery, and a mask had been placed over his mouth and nose, and he’d drifted off as he stared up at the unnatural light in the room, his eyes stinging.

And now he was here, in this bed, in the dark, sans one leg. He ran both hands shakily across his face. Peering around the room as his eyes adjusted, Chris saw there was something on his bedside table, a little red call button. He reached over and pressed it.

A minute later, a woman came into the room, dressed in clean grey scrubs. She smiled kindly at him. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “A little groggy? I can get you some water.”

“Where are my friends?” Chris asked quickly, his voice hoarse. “I need to see them. Please,” he added belatedly.

The nurse smiled, nodding. “Of course. I’ll go fetch them. Oh, and I’m sure you don’t want to be sitting in the dark.” She reached over and turned on a light, which momentarily blinded him before she dimmed it to a muted yellow. “It’ll take time for your eyes to adjust to fluorescents again,” she said. “We’ll keep it here for now.” Then she left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Chris pushed himself up further on his elbows, trying to see out into the hall, but he couldn’t see much besides a sliver of hospital-grey wall. When he moved, the place where his leg used to be ached.

The door burst open, and Sam came barreling at him, slamming her arms around him in a hug that practically flattened him into the mattress again. He coughed, hugging her back, and when she pulled away her eyes were wet.

“Hey, Sam,” he said, smiling weakly. “What’re you crying for? I’m fine.”

“I know,” she said, swiping at her eyes and frowning slightly, like her own tear ducts had betrayed her. “I know, it’s just — your _leg_ , Chris.” She looked down at it, and he followed her gaze. With the lights on, it was even more glaringly obvious that it was gone. His stomach swooped.

“Yeah, well,” he said, trying to sound unaffected. “At least you guys didn’t have to hack it off, right? I’ve seen you with knives, Sammy, you’re not exactly skilled.”

She shoved his shoulder, laughing wetly, and wiped at her eyes again. “God, shut up. You’re insufferable.”

“And that’s why you keep me around,” he said. They smiled at each other for a moment, and Chris felt a rush of gratitude that Sam was with him, after everything. “Hey, where’s everyone else?”

“They’re at the cafeteria, eating lunch,” Sam said, glancing back at the doorway. “They’ll be up later.”

“There’s a cafeteria?” Chris said. He shook his head. “Sam, where the hell are we? I mean, I know where we are, but —”

“It’s pretty unbelievable, right?” she agreed. Her expression grew clouded. “Em and I have been trying to get more information out of them. Apparently this place was one of the last to get the infection. Lisa was right, back then — the east coast was safe for a while after all. This group of doctors and scientists were sort of boarded up in this hospital, and they started working on a cure almost immediately. Obviously after the safety zones fell apart and the government went to shit, things got harder, but they kept working. Apparently made some kind of deal with some of the soldiers, formed their own little community. And they just kept trying to find the cure.”

Chris tried to take it all in. “But why didn’t anyone know about this? Like, it’s been years, and I know we haven’t been close to the coast until recently but surely _someone_ would’ve said something?”

Sam’s lips thinned. “Apparently they’re _very_ good at keeping their secrets. They didn’t want anyone to know about the cure while they were working on it. Or even when they found it about a year ago.”

“Wait, what?” Chris said. “What do you mean, they found it? They can cure zombies here?”

“I don’t know all the details,” Sam said slowly. “They said there’s limitations still, but… yeah. There’s another hospital where they, uh, ‘rehabilitate’ infected people. According to Dr. Heron, they’ve cured hundreds. That’s what they were doing driving around — looking for survivors and infected to pick up and bring back here. They’re being a little more open about it now, obviously. But they still keep the actual cure under wraps.”

“Holy shit,” Chris breathed. He flopped back against his pillows, briefly closing his eyes and massaging the space between his eyebrows. Then a thought flew into his head and his eyes shot open again. “Josh —” he said in a strangled voice.

Sam smiled sadly. “I thought the same thing. They’ve got a connections list here, and one in the zombie hospital, but I already checked. He’s not on there.”

“Oh.” His heart was going to fucking give out on him from all the emotional highs and lows he kept experiencing in rapid succession.

“But you know who was?” she said, her smile turning a bit brighter. “Jessica.”

“Jess was infected? Wait, Jess is alive?” Chris said. “Holy shit! That’s… that’s amazing, oh my god. Have you seen her?”

“Not yet. She hasn’t been released from the other hospital, and we can’t visit her there. But one of the doctors said they’d send a message over from us, so she knows we’re here.” Sam grabbed Chris’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Josh might turn up, too. He can’t have gone far from where we were, and they’re sweeping that area now.”

“Right,” Chris said. His heart gave a hopeful flutter, and he did his best to tamp it down. Any optimism he had left in him had been crushed the moment they’d driven the pickup away from the Walgreens.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, and he looked at her. “I just want to give you a heads up… I don’t know how to feel about this place. Something feels off to me about the whole thing. Keeping the cure a secret, for one. And they won’t tell us exactly how they keep the place so secure, either. I mean, there’s these big perimeter fences, but… I don’t know, something doesn’t sit right. Emily feels the same way.”

“She still mad?” Chris asked. Sam’s eyes dropped to the bedspread.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “But we’re not talking about it. The folks around here made it _pretty_ clear they have a zero tolerance policy for hunters. I think if they’d known the truth about you and me, they’d have slit your throat in that operating room.” Chris gaped at her, and she went on, “Em didn’t rat us out. So I think she’s still mad, but not murderous. Baby steps.”

Chris huffed out a laugh, though he was now uneasy. “What do we do?” he asked.

“Right now?” Sam said. “We stay here, because you need to heal and go through physical therapy, and they’re talking about figuring out a prosthetic. We’ll just keep our heads down, and Emily and I will keep trying to find out more. Okay?”

“Okay.” Chris felt exhausted, and thirsty. “Hey, could you… get the nurse? I need water or I’m gonna die.”

Sam jumped up. “Of course. Be right back. Oh, and Chris?” she said, pausing halfway to the door. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” he said, his edges feeling worn when he attempted a smile. “Me too.”

***

Josh sat across from Jessica in the cafeteria. It was reminiscent of high school, a Before-time that he hardly even thought about anymore. It was crazy how easily it all came rushing back.

Jess had in front of her a plastic tray loaded up with stew, a sandwich, and a bunch of dried fruit. Josh just had a cup of black coffee. It smelled great, and the heat was nice on his hands, but he’d only taken one small sip. He didn’t want a repeat of the soup incident from earlier.

The two of them were filling each other in on what had happened in the weeks they’d been separated. Jess had already seen Matt, who had recovered much quicker than Josh and was already approved to leave the hospital, so she knew about the gardening store incident. Josh hadn’t told her about Chris getting shot, about how Josh had nearly ripped Chris’s throat open. He didn’t tell her that he and Chris had kissed, had been on the verge of _something_ , finally, before it all went to hell. Even if he’d wanted to share that with Jessica, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get the words out. They felt lodged in his throat.

So instead, Jess filled him in on the compound. She told him what she knew about the cure — essentially, that it was almost always guaranteed to work if you’d been infected less than a month. From there, the success rate went down. If you’d been infected more than a year, the current iteration of the cure wouldn’t work at all.

“What do they do if they try the cure on someone and it doesn’t work?” Josh asked. He remembered the way Dr. Langley had said she’d been concerned when he’d shown aggression after receiving his third shot. He hadn’t told Jess about _that_ , either. It was too embarrassing.

Jessica continued to snarf down her food as she spoke. “I dunno for sure, but I heard a rumor that they use ‘em to fortify the perimeter fences.”

Josh stared at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“They’ve got them like, chained up. That way no one can break in without getting chomped. Why do you think they use armored buses and helicopters to get inside?” Jess pointed her spoon at him. “Like I said, just a rumor. But I think it’s true.”

The thought of hundreds, maybe thousands of infected people chained to a fence, snarling and scrabbling uselessly as they struggled to get free, made Josh’s stomach turn. “That’s fucked up.”

“Why? They’re monsters,” Jess said.

“Are you kidding?” he said. “Jess, _we_ were those monsters not too long ago, remember? They’re still people inside. We know that. And these people know that,” he added, gesturing around at the cafeteria, at the hospital in general. “How can they justify doing that when their whole thing is ‘rehabilitation’?”

Jessica set her spoon down. She looked at the tabletop instead of at Josh. “Same way Jack and his buddies justified killing people, I guess.”

Josh shook his head. “They did that because they liked it. I’m pretty sure the only thing stopping them from doing that shit Before was that there were laws back then.”

“Okay, then maybe it’s like you and me,” Jess said, and she looked up at him then. “Before… I was scared of spiders, but I’d cry if my dad squished them instead of taking them outside. I took gymnastics, and I wanted to be a cheerleader. You think that little girl ever dreamed of killing people?” She laughed humorlessly. “I had to make a choice to do a bad thing because it meant I survived. It meant Jack protected me. It meant he protected all of us. You find ways to justify it, to be okay with it, because otherwise you go batshit crazy and blow your brains out or something.” Her eyes were shining. “Doesn’t make it right, but… everyone’s done something. I don’t think there are any really _good_ people left anymore.”

In his mind’s eye, Josh saw the fear in Chris’s face when he’d been pinned by Josh, snarling and rabid. He gripped his coffee cup until his knuckles turned white. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You know the worst part?” Jess said. “We’ve spent all these years calling the zombies monsters, but when I was one… I mean, shit, I had no control. I couldn’t even think. When I was hunter, I made those choices.”

They sat in the heavy silence following Jess’s words, and Josh took another small sip of his coffee. It slid down his throat, lukewarm now, and he winced as he swallowed.

Footsteps made them both look up, and they saw one of the ZRR members was approaching them both. He had a folded piece of paper in his hand, which he held out to Jessica. “Jessica Riley?” he asked. She nodded. “This is for you,” he said.

Jess took it, bewildered. “What is it?”

“A message from the survivor hospital,” the man said. “I can wait here if you want to send a message back after you’ve read it.”

“Who’s it from?” Jess asked, eyes widening. Instead of waiting for a reply, she unfolded the note. She read it for a second, and then gasped.

“What?” Josh demanded. “Jess, what?”

“It’s from Sam!” Jess practically screamed. The delivery man winced, startled by her volume. Josh felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Are you serious?” he said. It took everything he had in him not to yank the letter out of Jessica’s hands. As his adrenaline spiked, so did the remnant of the infection. He couldn’t wait for those brief, untethered flashes of rage to fade. He watched as Jess read, her eyes flying across the page, her mouth fixed in this shocked kind of smile. When she was done, she looked up at him.

“They’re all here,” she said. She looked like she might cry. “Sam, Chris, Mike, Ashley, Emily, they’re all okay.”

“Let me read it,” Josh pleaded. His chest had tightened at the mention of Chris’s name, and he found it hard to breathe as Jess put the piece of paper in his hands. He recognized Sam’s neat writing immediately, the looping curve of her lettering and the precise, straight lines of words. He had to take a couple deep breaths before he could focus enough to read.

 

_Dear Jessica,_

_Hi. It’s Sam. Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m writing you this letter. I can’t believe you’re alive, and that we’re in this place. I can’t believe any of it. Oh: Mike is alive. He’s here. He’s been searching for you this whole time. Emily and Ashley and Chris are all here too. Chris is hurt pretty bad, but he’s in good care now and he’s recovering. It’s… a lot to explain in a letter, so I can tell you in person. The doctors over here tell me that you should be able to come visit us here even if you’re not released from recovery, as long as you have an escort or something. We can’t go over there, but I hope you’ll come see us. Or at least tell us when you’ll be released._  

_You probably noticed that I didn’t mention Josh or Matt. Things broke bad recently, and they were both attacked by zombies. We don’t know what happened to Matt. Josh turned. God, it’s hard to write that out. It’s been awful, Jess. Chris is a mess, obviously. I’m really sorry. I wanted to tell you in person, but I honestly don’t know if I could have said it without crying._

_Please write back if you can, and come visit us if you can, too. Mike misses you so much. And I know Chris would be so happy to see your face._

_Love,_

_Sam_

 

Josh read the second paragraph of Sam’s letter over twice, his mouth feeling like sandpaper. _Chris is a mess, obviously._ And then what she’d said before that: _Chris is hurt pretty bad_. What had happened to him? He’d been shot, of course, but… what did Sam mean, it was a lot to explain? He felt like he might have a panic attack. He set the letter down and slid it across the table to Jess again.

The delivery man stood somewhat awkwardly at the end of the table. “I have paper and a pen if you’d like to write a reply,” he said.

“Yes,” Jess said immediately. She looked at Josh. “Do you want to write one too?”

“No,” Josh blurted. Jess looked startled.

“Why the fuck not?” she demanded. “They think you’re gone. Chris is a wreck. Don’t you know how happy he’d be —”

“Stop, just stop,” Josh said, covering his face with his hands. “You don’t know what happened while you were gone, okay?”

“Well then, what happened?” she asked. He peered at her from between his fingers. She was giving him that fucking look she always gave him, her “I can see through your bullshit” look. He hated it.

“I…” He dropped his hands and shook his head ever so slightly. “I can’t. Just ask Sam when you see her, she’ll tell you.”

Jessica glowered at him for a moment more before taking the paper and pen from the delivery man. “I’m going to go see them,” she told Josh. “And I’m going to tell them you’re fucking alive, and that you’re being a coward as usual.”

“Shut up, Jess,” he muttered. The rage pierced at the spot behind his eyes, lingering this time, and he pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead as if to physically shove it back into the depths of his mind where it belonged.

“No, you shut up,” she snapped. “You’re being an idiot. You act like you don’t give a shit about Chris, but I know you do, and he’s fucking in love with you even though you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met —”

“Shut _up_!” Josh shouted, jumping to his feet and causing several people at other tables in the cafeteria to look over at them in surprise. Jessica’s mouth snapped shut. Josh felt the anger, hot and horrible, wrapping itself around his skull. It felt like that day in the Walgreens, before he’d attacked Chris. He tried to take a deep breath, suddenly terrified that the cure hadn’t worked after all and they were going to take him out and chain him to the fences until he’d torn his own body to shreds trying to break free.

The delivery man looked horrified at the scene that had broken out. “Um,” he said. Josh looked over at him and saw he had a hand on his belt, was drawing a taser. “Listen, buddy, I don’t wanna have to use this, but you need to calm down right now. This early in recovery, a freakout can trigger the infection pretty bad.”

Josh nodded, his eyes locked on the taser now. His hands were shaking. Slowly, the rage ebbed, and he sank back into his seat. Jess was staring at him, mortified.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Fuck, Josh, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” he said, even though it wasn’t. “Just… write your stupid letter. I’m going back to my room.” He shoved the coffee away and got up again, leaving the cafeteria and making a beeline for the elevator. He retraced the route he and Jess had taken an hour or so earlier, making it back to his room and drawing the curtains shut around his bed so no one could look at him. He sat down on the bed, the remnants of his meal tray still resting at the foot.

He wanted to see Chris so badly it made his heart want to burst apart. But Mike’s words, cruel and cold, echoed in his head: _Don’t you think you’ve hurt him enough?_ How could he face his best friend after all he’d done? Jess had said that there weren’t any really good people left anymore, but he didn’t think that was true. Chris was good, he was _good_ , and he deserved better than the monster Josh had become, the monster he could still feel crawling around in his brain. Jess would go see Sam and the others, and they would tell her what happened — what Josh had done — and then she’d get why he couldn’t see Chris.

Or maybe she was right. Maybe he was just a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if any of y'all like star wars but if i'm being honest, the main thing that got me wanting to work on this fic again is that i read this AMAZING finnpoe fic called "tell me about the big bang." it's maybe the most gorgeous thing i've ever read and it's not on ao3 anymore but it IS available to download the pdf if u google it so uhhh please read that immediately it's very good. that's my rec of the day. 
> 
> ANYWAY thanks so much for reading and pls leave a comment if you're so inclined!! they mean the world to me!!! see ya soon!


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